PLAINS 
CUSTER 


EDWIN  L.SABIN 


3  1822  01260  0466 


LIBRARY 

CALIFORNIA 

SAN  D£SO 


MeflELLAXD 


3   1822 


0466 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH 
CUSTER 


EIGHTH    IMPRESSION 


ON  THE  PLAINS 
WITH  CUSTER 


THE  WESTERN  LIFE  AND  DEEDS  OF  THE  CHIEF  WITH 
THE  YELLOW  HAIR,  UNDER  WHOM  SERVED  BOY  BUGLER 
NED  FLETCHER,  WHEN  IN  THE  TROUBLOUS  YEARS 
1866-1876  THE  FIGHTING  SEVENTH  CAVALRY  HELPED 
TO  WIN  PIONEER  KANSAS,  NEBRASKA,  AND  DAKOTA 
FOR  WHITE  CIVILIZATION  AND  TODAY'S  PEACE 


BY 

EDWIN  L.  SABIN 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BT 

CHARLES  H.  STEPHENS 

jtND  PORTRAITS 


"  The  bravest  are  the  tenderest, — 
The  loving  are  the  daring." 

— BAYARD  TAYLOR 


PHILADELPHIA  y  LONDON 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1913,  BY  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PRINTED   BY  J.   B.   LIPPINCOTT   COMPANY 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

J-HUAPEI-PHTA,  u,  S,  A. 


TO  THE  ARMY  WOMEN 

MOTHERS,  WIVES,  AND  SWEETHEARTS  WHO 
WORKED  AND  SMILED  AND  WEPT  AND  PRAYED 
WHILE  SOLDIERS  MARCHED  AND  FOUGHT 


FOREWORD 


THIS  is  a  story  of  Ned  Fletcher,  and  the  Seventh 
Regular  Cavalry,  United  States  Army,  when  upon  the 
Western  plains  they  followed  the  yellow-haired 
General  Custer.  Yet  it  is  not  all  a  story  of  righting; 
for  to  be  a  good  soldier  does  not  mean  that  one  must 
serve  only  to  fight.  Indeed,  there  are  worthy  battles 
other  than  those  with  lead  and  steel,  horse  and  foot. 
Every  earnest  citizen  is  a  good  soldier.  General 
Custer  was  as  great  in  peace  as  in  war;  in  his  home 
as  in  the  field,  and  he  loved  his  home  duties  as  much 
as  he  loved  his  other  duties,  which  is  token  of  a 
true  man. 

General  Custer  is  real  to-day.  Men  and  women 
live  who  marched  with  him.  As  to  Ned  Fletcher,  who 
may  say?  A  little  girl  named  Fletcher  was  captured 
by  Cheyennes  and  Sioux,  as  Ned's  sister  was  captured ; 
and  Chief  Cut  Nose  called  her  "  Little  Silver  Hair." 
General  Custer  would  have  rescued  her,  as  official 
records  show.  Two  little  children  were  found  in  the 
Cheyenne  village  on  the  Washita.  In  the  battle  here 
a  bugler  boy  was  wounded  just  as  Ned  was  wounded. 
Aye,  and  at  Fort  Wallace  a  little  bugler  boy  was  slain. 
So  that  boys  served  in  the  old  Seventh  Cavalry,  under 
General  Custer.  As  a  brave  boy,  Ned  might  have  been 
there,  even  though  by  a  different  name. 

7 


FOREWORD 

General  Custer  has  left  his  own  story  of  his  plains 
days  in  Kansas  and  Nebraska.  It  lies  before  me. 
Mrs.  Custer,  his  comrade  of  garrison  and  camp  and 
march,  has  written  several  books  about  him.  They  lie 
before  me.  There  is  a  biography  by  one  Captain 
Whittaker,  written  at  the  close  of  the  last  battle,  near 
forty  years  ago.  With  General  Sheridan  and  General 
Custer  upon  their  campaign  against  the  Cheyennes 
and  the  Kiowas  was  a  newspaper  reporter,  Randolph 
Keim,  who  also  wrote  a  book.  Chapters  have  there 
been,  in  other  books  and  in  magazines,  and  pamphlets 
of  time  agone ;  and,  as  I  say,  men  and  women  are  now 
alive  who  knew  the  general.  From  all  these  more 
information  should  be  sought.  No  one  pen  can  de 
scribe  so  fine  a  thing  as  a  Man. 

So  this  book  must  tell  of  the  Custer  whom  Ned 
the  boy  and  youth  saw;  and  of  affairs  in  which  he 
took  part  during  that  final  struggle  when  the  white 
race  would  supplant  the  red  race,  on  the  plains  of 
north  and  south.  In  the  narrative  of  these  years  I 
have  tried  to  show  how  the  white  race  felt  and  how 
the  red  race  felt;  for  each  had  their  rights  and  their 
wrongs,  and  each  did  right  and  did  wrong.  Out  of 
the  result  came  general  good,  that  the  church  and  the 
school-house  might  rise  and  people  might  work  and 
play  in  peace,  where  formerly  stood  only  the  unpro 
ductive  hide  lodges,  and  the  main  thought  was  war  and 

Plunder-  EDWIN  L.  SABIN. 

Coronado,  California,  June  1,1913. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I.    A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

II.    Ax  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

III.  THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

IV.  SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

V.    IN  BATTLE  ARRAY 

VI.  THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

VII.    SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 

VIII.    PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

IX.    DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

X.    SAD  NEWS  FOR  THE  ARMY  BLUE 

XI.    GRIM  DAYS  ALONG  THE  TRAIL 

XII.    PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

XIII.  THE  YELLOW  HAIR  RIDES  AGAIN 

XIV.  THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

XV.    "WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

XVI.  "GARRYOWEN!"  AND  "CHARGE!"..  . . 

XVII.    AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

XVIII.     To  THE  LAND  OF  THE  DAKOTAH 

XIX.    SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  Sioux 

XX.  RAIN-IN-THE-FACE  Vows  VENGEANCE  . 

XXI.    SITTING  BULL  SAYS:  "COME  ON ! " 

XXII.    OUT  AGAINST  THE  Sioux 

XXIII.  LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

XXIV.  SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY  . . 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

And  now  at  full  speed  passing  Ned  also  he  leaned,  Indian-wise 

Frontispiece 

Major-General  George  A.  Custer 12 

"  Tell  this  chief  that  if  another  man  of  his  crosses  the  river  my 
men  will  advance  " 133 

The  big  Indian  was  a  fair  mark,  but  the  bullet  must  not  hit 
Mary 213 

"  Here,  take  that  to  Captain  Benteen,  and  don't  spare  your 
horse  " 289 


Hy  Courtesy  of  The  Century  Company 

MAJOR-GENERAL    GEORGE    A.  CUSTER 

From  a  Photograph  by  Brady 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 


GEORGE  ARMSTRONG  CUSTER 

Famous  American  soldier  and  cavalry  leader  in  the 
Civil  War  and  on  Indian  campaigns  afterward.  A 
loyal  citizen,  a  tender  son,  a  devoted  husband.  Family 
name  "Autie";  otherwise  called  Armstrong;  by  war 
correspondents  styled  "the  Boy  General";  by  the 
soldiers  nicknamed  "Old  Curly,"  and  "Jack";  entitled 
by  the  Indians  "the  Yellow  Hair,"  "the  Long  Hair," 
or,  in  full,  "White  Chief  with  the  Long  Yellow  Hair." 

Born  at  New  Rumley,  Ohio,  December  5,  1839. 
Father:  Emmanuel  H.  Custer,  of  Maryland. 
Mother:  Maria  Ward  Kirkpatrick,  of  Pennsylvania. 

Spent  his  boyhood  at  New  Rumley,  on  the  farm,  and  with  his 
sister  at  Monroe,  Michigan. 

Educated  at  New  Rumley,  at  the  Stebbins  Academy  (Monroe) 
and  the  Monroe  "Seminary,"  and  at  the  Hopedale,  Ohio,  Normal 
School. 

Appointed  to  West  Point  Military  Academy,  1857. 
Graduates  last  in  his  class,  1861. 

Assigned  as  second  lieutenant,  G  Company,  Second  United  States 
Cavalry. 

Three  days  after  leaving  West  Point  reports  for  duty  with  General 
McDowell's  army,  on  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Bull  Run. 

Soon  detailed  as  aide-de-camp  and  assistant  adjutant-general  on 
the  staff  of  General  Philip  Kearny. 

13 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 

Second  lieutenant,  Fifth  United  States  Cavalry,  1862,  under  Gen 
eral  Stoneman. 

Serves  briefly  with  the  Topographical  Engineers,  1862. 

Appointed  aide-de-camp  on  the  staff  of  General  McClellan,  June, 
1862,  with  rank  of  Captain. 

After  McClellan's  removal  is  appointed  first  lieutenant,  Fifth 
Cavalry. 

On  waiting  orders,  at  Monroe,  winter  of  i862-'63,  woos  and  wins 
his  future  wife,  Elizabeth  Bacon. 

Reports  for  duty  as  first  lieutenant  with  M  Company,  Fifth  Cavalry, 
Army  of  the  Potomac,  April,  1863. 

Appointed  aide-de-camp  to  General  Pleasanton,  commanding  First 
Division,  Cavalry  Corps  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 

June,  1863,  at  the  age  of  23  appointed  brigadier  general  of  volun 
teers,  in  command  of  the  Second  Brigade  (the  "Michigan" 
Brigade),  Third  Division,  Cavalry  Corps,  under  General  Kil- 
patrick,  and  distinguishes  himself  at  the  battle  of  Gettysburg. 
"The  boy  general  with  the  golden  locks." 

Slightly  wounded  at  Culpepper,  September,  1863. 

Married,  February  4,  1864,  at  Monroe,  Michigan,  to  Elizabeth 
Bacon,  daughter  of  Judge  Daniel  S.  Bacon,  and  takes  his  bride 
with  him  to  the  brigade  headquarters  camp. 

By  Sheridan,  the  new  cavalry  commander,  is  given  the  advance 
in  the  various  raids. 

Transferred  to  command  of  the  Second  Division  of  Cavalry,  and 
finally  September,  1864,  to  that  of  the  Third  Division. 

October,  1864,  aged  25  is  brevetted  major-general  of  volunteers, 
for  gallantry.  The  youngest  in  the  army. 

Continues  to  lead  the  Third  Division  of  cavalry,  which  is  con 
spicuous  for  its  discipline,  its  dash,  and  the  long  hair,  cavalier 
hats  and  flying  red  neckties  of  its  men,  copied  after  the  well- 
known  Custer  garb. 

14 


CHRONOLOGICAL  TABLE 

Eleven  horses  are  shot  under  him,  in  battle.  In  six  months  his 
division  captures  in  pieces  of  field  artillery,  65  battle-flags,  and 
10,000  prisoners  including  seven  generals.  It  does  not  lose  a 
flag  or  a  gun  or  meet  defeat. 

f  April  9,  1865,  he  receives  flag  of  truce  conveying  the  first  word  that 
General  Lee  is  considering  surrender.  Thus  "the  boy  general" 
has  fought  through  from  Bull  Run  to  Appomattox. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  is  ordered  with  a  division  of  cavalry  to  Texas. 

Offered  the  command  of  the  cavalry  of  the  army  of  General  Juarez, 
Mexico,  in  the  conflict  with  Emperor  Maximilian;  but  by  Con 
gress  is  not  permitted  to  accept. 

In  1866  brevetted  major-general  in  the  regular  army,  for  war  services. 

October,  1866,  appointed  lieutenant-colonel  to  command  the  Sev 
enth  United  States  Cavalry,  and  ordered  to  Fort  Riley,  Kansas. 

Five  years  of  service,  i866-'7i,  on  the  plains  of  Kansas,  Nebraska, 
Colorado  and  Indian  Territory,  resulting  in  the  subjugation  of 
the  Kiowas,  Arapahos,  Cheyennes,  Comanches  and  Apaches  in 
that  district. 

From  1871  to  1873  stationed  with  his  regiment  in  Kentucky. 

Spring  of  1873  ordered  with  his  regiment  to  Fort  Rice,  Dakota, 
for  operations  among  the  Sioux.  Occupies  the  new  post  of  Fort 
Lincoln. 

Engages  in  campaigns  along  the  Yellowstone  River,  and  explores 
and  exploits  the  Black  Hills. 

June  25,  1876,  aged  37,  killed  with  five  companies  of  his  cavalry 
from  which  only  one  man,  a  Crow  scout,  escapes,  in  the  battle  of 
the  Little  Big  Horn,  Montana,  with  3000  Sioux. 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH 
CUSTER 

i 

A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 


IN  every  direction  wide  stretched  the  lonely  brown 
prairie-land  of  north  central  Kansas,  1866.  From 
horizon  to  horizon  not  a  house  of  any  kind  was  to  be 
seen,  nor  even  a  tree  except  low  lines  of  willows  and 
occasional  cottonwoods  marking  the  courses  of 
streams.  Late  November's  pale  blue  sky  bent  mildly 
over,  the  steady  plains  breeze  rustled  the  dried  weeds 
and  the  sun-cured  carpet  of  buffalo-grass;  and  Ned 
Fletcher,  trudging  wearily,  felt  that  he  was  a  very 
small  boy  in  a  very  large  world. 

However,  he  was  not  afraid  of  the  largeness; 
and  as  he  hastened  as  fast  as  he  could,  with  ear  alert 
for  sunning  rattlesnakes  and  eye  upon  a  vast  herd 
of  buffalo  grazing  far  to  the  northeast,  he  was  rather 
glad  of  the  loneliness.  Moving  objects,  ahorse,  might 
mean  Indians,  and  Indians  he  did  not  want.  Ah  no, 
no,  no. 

Ned  was  bare-headed,  his  tow  hair  long  and  matted 
as  if  it  needed  cutting  and  combing.  But  who  had 
«  17 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

there  been,  in  the  Indian  camps,  to  cut  or  comb  a 
white-boy  prisoner's  hair?  He  wore  on  his  body  a 
tattered  fragment  of  stained  blanketing,  his  head 
thrust  through  a  slit.  One  foot  was  supplied  with  an 
old  moccasin  that  lacked  part  of  the  sole;  the  other 
foot  had  nothing.  As  he  hurriedly  walked  he  limped. 

Where  he  was  he  did  not  know.  He  was  still  in 
Kansas,  he  believed,  although  one  part  of  this  flat 
prairie-country  looked  much  like  another.  Since  his 
escape  from  the  Sioux  he  had  been  trying  to  travel 
straight  east;  but  he  had  sneaked  down  crooked 
stream-beds  and  had  slept  some,  and  now  exactly 
where  he  might  be  or  how  far  he  might  have  come, 
he  could  not  tell. 

Somewhere  on  before  were  the  settlements  of  the 
Kansas  frontier,  out  of  which  was  creeping  westward 
the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad,  bound  for  Denver. 
North  was  the  Republican  Fork  emigrant  trail  to  Den 
ver,  and  south  was  the  Smoky  Hill  trail.  With 
these,  and  with  the  outlying  ranches  and  hamlets  which 
were  liable  to  be  encountered,  it  did  seem  to  Ned  that 
by  hook  or  crook  he  would  be  rescued  if  he  only  kept 
going. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  short,  with  lame  foot  up 
raised,  and  peered.  He  was  all  ready,  like  prairie- 
dog  or  other  timid  wild  animal,  to  disappear.  This 
was  what  alarmed  him:  the  grazing  herd  of  buffalo, 
resembling  a  great  tract  of  black  gooseberry  bushes, 
had  broken  and  were  on  the  run! 

18 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

As  everybody  in  the  far  West  knew  or  ought  to 
know,  running  buffalo  were  frightened  buffalo;  and 
the  question  naturally  would  be :  "  Which  has  fright 
ened  them — white  hunters  or  Indian  hunters  ?  "  Upon 
the  answer  might  depend  much,  even  life. 

Ned's  heart  thumped  inside  his  bony  chest,  under 
the  thin  blanket,  and  he  glanced  about  for  hiding- 
place. 

The  creek-bed  was  too  far;  the  earth  around  was 
flat  and  sandy  and  bald ;  but  near  at  hand  was  a  curious 
circular  hollow,  like  a  dimple  in  the  brown  face  of 
the  prairie.  Crouching  and  skimming,  Ned  darted 
for  it,  and  plunged  in. 

This  was  a  buffalo-wallow.  In  the  beginning  some 
old  buffalo  bull,  tormented  by  flies,  had  pawed  and 
horned  and  turned  up  the  sod  of  a  soft  spot  in  the 
prairie,  and  there  had  taken  a  good  roll.  Other  buffalo 
bulls  had  followed  him,  enlarging  the  hole  as  they 
enjoyed  their  mud-baths.  Now,  in  late  November, 
the  wallow  was  dry,  but  it  was  two  feet  deep  and 
fifteen  feet  across. 

Behind  the  sloping  edge  of  the  wallow  Ned  lay 
close,  and  peeped  over.  He  was  a  brave  boy,  but  he 
shivered  with  excitement.  After  he  had  escaped,  and 
had  come  so  far,  and  was  almost  within  touch  of  white 
people,  was  he  to  be  re-captured?  He  couldn't  stand 
it — no,  he  couldn't  stand  it,  unless  he  had  to.  When 
they  have  to,  people  can  stand  a  great  deal. 

The  buffalo  were  increasing  in  size  rapidly,  as  with 

19 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

their  peculiar  headlong  rolling  gallop  they  came  thun 
dering  on.  There  were  several  thousand  of  them ;  the 
beat  of  their  hoofs  merged  into  a  dull  roar;  over  their 
torrent  of  black  backs  floated  a  yellow  spume  of  dust. 

Gazing  beyond  them  anxiously  Ned  searched  for 
the  hunters.  He  thought  that  he  saw  them — some 
horsemen,  veiled  in  the  dust  as  they  so  furiously  pur 
sued.  Were  they  white  horsemen,  or  red?  Then  he 
saw,  to  his  relief,  that  the  course  of  the  tossing  herd 
was  past  his  wallow,  not  over  it.  He  would  not  be 
trampled  to  death,  anyway;  and  perhaps  he  would  not 
be  seen.  And  then  he  saw  that  a  single  buffalo  had 
separated  from  the  flying  herd,  and  that  had  paired  off 
with  it  a  single  horseman,  to  ride  it  down.  They 
were  heading  almost  directly  for  the  wallow. 

Ned  flattened  himself  as  flat  as  a  horned  toad  or  a 
lizard,  and  motionless,  watched.  He  did  not  dare  to 
stir  his  head,  he  dared  scarcely  to  breathe.  Indians, 
as  well  he  knew,  had  eyes  very  keen  for  any  move 
ments  against  the  surface  of  the  ground. 

The  buffalo  was  running  gallantly — head  down,  tail 
curved,  heavy  fore-quarters  propelled  by  light  hind 
quarters.  In  its  rear  pursued  the  hunter.  Ned,  peer 
ing  through  a  screen  of  weeds,  fastened  eyes  upon  him 
to  read  him.  He  wore  a  hat ;  good !  He  wore  a  shirt 
or  coat ;  pretty  good !  He  held  a  revolver ;  very  good ! 
He  rode  like  a  white  man ;  hurrah ! 

Heart  beating  afresh,  Ned  waited  a  minute  longer, 
to  make  certain. 

20 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

How  the  buffalo  ran !  How  the  hunter  rode !  It 
was  a  big  bull  buffalo.  Ned  could  see  his  shaggy  head, 
like  a  lion's ;  he  fancied  that  he  could  see  his  tongue  as 
it  hung  foamy  and  red ;  almost  could  he  see  his  glaring 
eyeballs  and  hear  his  panting  breath.  The  horseman — 
yes,  he  was  white! — was  leaning  forward,  lifting  his 
long-legged  bay  to  the  race.  His  right  hand  held  high 
a  heavy  revolver,  his  left  hand  gathered  the  loosely 
drawn  reins;  his  broad-brimmed  hat  flared  in  the 
breeze  that  he  made;  his  hair,  yellow  and  free, 
streamed  backward.  He  gave  a  wild,  exultant  halloo, 
and  his  horse,  lengthening  with  leap  after  leap,  fairly 
was  eating  the  space  to  the  straining,  lumbering 
quarry.  It  took  a  fast  horse  to  do  this ;  but  the  buffalo 
was  wounded,  for  now  from  his  red  tongue  was 
dripping  something  redder  still. 

Ned  had  just  concluded  that  the  hunter  must  be 
a  soldier,  for  his  trousers-seams,  showing  between 
boot-tops  and  shirt  or  coat,  bore  broad  stripes,  when 
he  realized  also  that  this  chase,  like  the  rest  of  the 
chase,  was  passing  his  wallow;  and  that  if  he  did  not 
make  himself  known  he  would  not  be  seen.  Another 
minute,  and  buffalo  and  rider  would  be  by,  and  the 
chances  were  small  that  they  ever  would  notice  such  a 
small  thing  as  he,  behind  them.  With  a  spring,  out 
rushed  Ned;  waving  his  arms  and  calling,  he  ran 
forward  across  the  prairie. 

His  thoughts  and  eyes  were  on  the  rider — that 
white  man  rider.  He  was  regardless  of  the  buffalo, 

21 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

now — but  the  buffalo  proved  not  regardless  of  him. 
Into  the  very  path  of  the  onward  scouring  chase  went 
Ned,  waving  and  shouting;  and  veering  at  sharp  tan 
gent  the  buffalo  instantly  charged  for  him.  The 
buffalo's  little  tail  flicked  up,  in  half-cocked  manner, 
his  shaggy  head  dropped  lower,  and  he  made  a  savage 
lunge  at  what  he  thought  was  a  new  enemy. 

Ned  paused  not  for  parley.  An  enraged  buffalo 
bull  coming  full  tilt  won't  listen  to  talk,  and  the  fact 
that  Ned  was  only  a  boy  made  no  difference  to  this 
big  fellow.  In  a  sideways  jump  Ned  dodged  and 
turned  and  made  for  his  wallow  again. 

This  seemed  the  thing  to  do.  Now  he  forgot  about 
the  rider  and  thought  about  the  buffalo.  He  had  small 
hope  of  beating  him,  for  a  buffalo  can  run  as  fast  as 
an  ordinary  horse  and  this  buffalo  was  very  angry. 
Ned  imagined  that  the  hot  breath  of  the  great  animal 
was  burning  his  back — that  the  hard  stubby  horns 
were  grazing  him  there;  his  legs  were  weak  and  his 
feet  heavy;  and  nervously  glancing  behind  him,  as  he 
ran,  he  stumbled,  sprawling  head  over  heels.  When 
he  should  stop  rolling,  then  what? 

He  stopped,  and  scrambling  for  his  feet  he  looked 
quickly,  poised  on  hands  and  knees,  before  he  should 
rise.  His  next  movements  depended  upon  the  buffalo. 
The  buffalo  had  halted,  as  if  surprised.  He  was  almost 
towering  over,  so  huge  he  stood;  he  was  surveying 
Ned,  his  matted  hump  high,  his  bearded  hairy  head  low 
again,  his  tongue  dripping  crimson  froth,  his  red- 

22 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

streaked  eye-balls  standing  out  amidst  his  matted  locks, 
his  throat  rumbling,  his  forehoofs  flinging  the  dirt  in 
defiance.  As  soon  as  he  could  debate  a  little  over 
what  had  upset  his  new  enemy,  he  would  charge  again. 

Ned,  crouched  on  hands  and  knees,  stared  at  the 
buffalo;  the  buffalo,  rumbling  and  pawing  and  bleed 
ing,  stared  at  Ned. 

But  the  rider — the  rider!  With  rapid  thud  of 
hoofs  he  galloped.  "  Keep  down,  lad !  Keep  down !  " 
he  shouted,  in  clear  ringing  voice.  Ned  never  forgot 
how  he  looked,  as  with  bright  yellow  hair  floating, 
crimson  necktie-ends  at  his  throat  streaming,  black 
hat-brim  flaring,  wide  blue  eyes  in  bronzed  moustached 
face  blazing,  bridle  free  and  revolver  levelled,  like 
a  whirlwind  he  passed  the  great  beast — firing  as  he 
did  so — and  now  at  full  speed  passing  Ned  also  he 
leaned,  Indian-wise,  grasped  Ned  under  the  arms  and 
with  strong  heave  hoisted  him  right  up  to  the  saddle. 

For  an  instant  longer  the  horse,  with  Ned  thus 
suspended  beside  him,  careened  on.  Then  in  response 
to  vigorous  command  and  tug  of  gauntleted  hand 
holding  both  revolver  and  lines,  he  wheeled  and 
stopped.  Giddy,  clinging  desperately  to  the  buckskin 
waist,  Ned  gazed  before.  The  great  bull  was  prone, 
feebly  kicking  his  last.  Ned  looked  up,  into  a  face 
looking  down.  It  was  a  handsome,  manly  face;  lean 
and  deeply  tanned,  with  sunny  blue  eyes,  broad  high 
forehead,  straight  nose,  flowing  tawny  moustache,  firm 
cleft  chin,  all  under  a  large  soft-brimmed  black  slouch 

23 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

hat,  from  beneath  which  the  bright  yellow  hair  fell 
in  long  curly  waves  to  the  shirt  collar.  This  shirt  col 
lar  was  generous  and  rolling,  of  blue  flannel  with  a 
white  star  at  either  point  in  front.  Under  the  collar 
lay  a  long  soft  tie  of  crimson  silk,  its  ends  loosely 
knotted  and  hanging  down  outside  a  fringed  buckskin 
coat.  Between  skirt  of  coat  and  tops  of  riding-boots 
showed  dusty  trousers  of  army  blue,  with  broad  yellow 
stripes  down  the  seams.  Altogether,  to  Ned's  quick 
and  wondering  eye  he  was  a  most  attractive  and 
remarkable  individual. 

Looking  down,  while  Ned  looked  up,  he  smiled 
heartily,  and  said: 

"  Well,  we  got  the  buffalo  before  he  got  you,  didn't 
we?  Let's  see." 

With  a  "Whoa,  Phil!  Steady,  now!"  to  the 
horse,  he  carefully  lowered  Ned  and  set  him  back  upon 
the  ground;  then  swinging  easily  off  he  dismounted, 
and  leaving  the  horse  to  stand,  with  revolver  ready  he 
approached  the  buffalo.  But  the  buffalo  was  stone 
dead. 

"  All  right,"  he  called  back,  to  Ned,  who  was 
anxiously  watching.  "  Hurrah !  He's  a  big  fellow, 
isn't  he !  And  there  come  the  dogs !  Hi !  "  and 
raising  a  cow-horn  from  its  sling  to  his  lips  he  blew  a 
stirring,  rollicking  blast.  "  Watch  them  leg  it !  The 
pace  was  too  hot  for  them,  this  time.  Well,"  he  spoke, 
more  directly,  to  Ned,  "  come  over  here,  and  tell  me 

24 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

about  yourself.  You're  a  white  lad,  aren't  you?  My 
name's  Custer — Autie  Custer;  what's  yours?  " 

"Ned  Fletcher,"  faltered  Ned.  "I'm  a  white 
boy,  but  I've  been  captive  with  the  Indians.  Now  I'm 
escaping.  You — you're  an  officer  in  the  army,  I 
guess." 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  The  query  was 
quick  and  crisp — with  blue  eyes  twinkling  behind  it. 

Ned  hesitated.  His  gaze  strayed  to  the  blackish 
specks,  said  to  be  dogs,  rapidly  nearing  across  the 
prairie;  and  returned  to  this  straight,  lithe,  square- 
shouldered  figure,  standing  there  so  fascinating  in  face 
and  form  and  garb.  Ned  could  not  tell  exactly  why, 
but  he  felt  that  this  man  was  every  inch  a  soldier  and 
a  leader.  If  he  wasn't  an  officer  he  ought  to  be, 
anyway.  So  Ned  hazarded : 

"  By  those  stripes — and  you've  got  stars  on  your 
shirt  collar." 

The  blue  eyes  twinkled  merrily. 

"  Oh,  those  stars  don't  count  for  anything.  That's 
a  sailor  shirt.  And  maybe  I  stole  the  pants.  My  wife 
calls  me  '  Autie/  the  men  call  me  '  Jack/  but  once  in 
a  while  somebody  calls  me  '  Colonel,"  so  I  suppose  I'm 
a  sort  of  an  officer,  after  all.  But  here — if  you're  a 
white  boy  you've  got  to  have  something  on.  Aren't 
you  cold?  You  must  be  cold.  Take  my  coat.  Cap 
tive  to  the  Indians,  you  say?  Where?  How  did 
that  happen?  Put  on  that  coat,  and  tell  me.  I'll  be 
cutting  out  this  buffalo's  tongue.  Did  you  ever  see 

25 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

a  buffalo's  tongue  cut  out?  It's  quite  a  job,  isn't  it! 
Hi!  Hello,  pups!  (For  the  dogs  were  arriving.) 
Down,  Maida!  Down,  Flirt!  Blucher!  Good  dog, 
Byron!  Where's  Rover?  Oh,  yes;  I  see.  Hurry, 
Rover,  or  you'll  be  too  late.  There!  That'll  do. 
Next  time  you  hunt  with  the  old  man  you'll  save  your 
wind  for  the  final  spurt,  won't  you ! ' 

The  dogs  were  splendid  animals:  three  gaunt, 
rough-coated  stag  hounds,  a  deer  hound,  a  fox  hound 
or  two.  They  came  in  panting  and  eager,  whining  and 
gambolling  and  sniffing  right  and  left.  Colonel  Custer 
knelt  and  whipping  out  his  hunting-knife  pried  open 
the  dead  bull's  mouth  and  slashed  at  the  thick  tongue. 

Ned  didn't  want  to  put  on  the  buckskin  coat,  but 
he  had  been  ordered  to,  so  he  did,  and  dropped  the 
ragged  blanket.  The  coat  almost  covered  him.  While 
the  dogs  nosed  him  and  excitement  still  reigned,  he 
answered  the  questions. 

"  The  Dog  Soldiers  killed  my  father  and  burned 
the  ranch  and  took  my  mother  and  sister  and  me  away 
with  them.  My  mother  is  dead — they  made  her  work 
too  hard  (and  Ned  choked  up),  and  I  don't  know 
where  my  sister  is  but  I'm  going  to  find  her." 

"  Where  was  the  ranch?  " 

"  On  the  Bijou  in  Colorado." 

"  How  long  ago?  " 

"  About  a  year.  I  was  traded  to  the  Sioux.  But 
when  I  had  a  chance  I  ran  away." 

"  From  their  village?  " 

26 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

"  No,  sir;  on  the  march." 

"  Who  were  the  chiefs?  " 

"The  Sioux  chief  was  Pawnee  Killer,  and  the 
Cheyenne  chief  was  Cut  Nose.  I  ran  away  from 
Pawnee  Killer.  My  sister's  out  with  old  Cut  Nose's 
Cheyennes,  I  think." 

"  Where  do  you  want  to  go,  my  boy?  " 

"  Anywhere,  so  that  I  find  my  sister." 

"  All  right."  Colonel  Custer  had  finished  cutting 
out  the  tongue.  Now  he  wiped  his  knife  on  the  buf 
falo's  wool,  and  stood.  "  We'll  take  you  back  to 
Riley,  first.  That's  where  I  live — Fort  Riley.  It  isn't 
far;  a  day's  ride.  We're  out  on  a  little  scout.  There 
comes  my  orderly,  now.  The  lazy  fellow !  Eh,  Phil  ?  " 
and  the  handsome  bay  horse,  thus  addressed,  pricked 
his  ears.  "  First  we  leave  the  orderly,  then  we  leave 
the  dogs,  and  we  kill  a  buffalo  and  pick  up  a  boy! 
That  will  be  something  to  tell  the  old  lady  when  we  get 
back." 

About  this  handsome,  energetic  army  officer  was  an 
air  so  happy-go-lucky  and  boyish  that  Ned,  another 
boy,  found  himself  already  loving  him. 

Now  the  orderly  galloped  up.  He  wore  fatigue 
cap  and  blouse  and  trousers,  of  the  regulation  service 
blue ;  and  by  yellow  braid  and  chevrons  and  the  brass 
horn  hanging  from  his  shoulder  he  was  a  bugler. 

He  arrived  dusty  and  red,  his  horse  much  blown ; 
pulling  short  he  saluted,  trying  not  to  stare.  Colonel 
Custer  drew  himself  up  very  tall  and  straight  and 

27 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

military,  surveyed  him  sternly  and  spoke  gruffly — 
although  Ned  felt  certain  that  those  blue  eyes  held  a 
twinkle. 

"  Take  this  boy  on  before  you,  Odell.  Where's  the 
rest  of  the  troop?" 

;<  Yes,  sir.     Following  the  buffalo,  sir." 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  " 

"  Trying  to  catch  up  with  you,  sir." 

"Oh!  I  see."  And  as  Colonel  Custer  turned,  to 
his  own  horse,  and  tied  the  buffalo  tongue  to  the  saddle, 
Ned  fancied  not  only  the  twinkle  in  the  eyes  but  a  smile 
under  the  yellow  moustache. 

"  Well,  boy,  you're  to  get  aboard  with  me,  the 
general  says,"  said  Bugler  Odell.  "  Give  me  a  grip  on 
ye  and  I'll  help  ye  up.  But  you  ought  to  have  coverin' 
for  your  legs.  It's  cold,  ridin'.  Use  that  blanket, 
now,  I  see  lyin'  there." 

"  No.  I've  got  enough,"  asserted  Ned,  eyeing  the 
blanket  fragment  disdainfully.  The  heavy  buckskin 
coat  fell  below  his  knees,  and  he  was  used  to  the  cold 
air. 

"Yes;  wrap  that  piece  of  blanketing  around  you, 
or  you'll  wear  a  hole  through  Odell's  saddle-skirts," 
bade  Colonel  Custer,  as  he  vaulted  astride  his  own 
saddle. 

"  You  hear  what  the  general  says,"  reminded 
Bugler  Odell,  soberly.  "  Fetch  the  blanket  and  come 
on,  now." 

So  Ned,  understanding  that  it  was  the  custom,  evi- 

48 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

dently,  to  obey  whatever  the  man  with  the  yellow  hair 
directed,  gingerly  lifted  the  fragment  of  dirty  blanket, 
and  approached  the  bugler's  stirrup.  With  one  foot 
upon  it,  and  the  trooper  hauling  him  stoutly,  he  right 
soon  was  seated  before  the  low  pommel,  where  he 
tucked  the  blanketing  around  his  legs. 

"  Ready?  "  queried  the  bugler.  "  Here  we  go,  and 
you'd  better  hang  tight,  for  the  general  won't  wait. 
That  hoss  o'  his  is  a  tarrer." 

"  The  general  ?  Is  he  a  general !  He  said  he  was 
colonel,"  stammered  Ned,  perplexed,  as  following  the 
man  with  the  yellow  hair  away  they  went,  at  jolting 
trot  which  speedily  broke  into  a  smoother  gallop. 

"Who?  General  Custer?  Sure,  he's  left'nant- 
colonel  o'  regulars,  commandin'  the  Sivinth  Cavalry; 
but  he  was  brigadier-general  and  brevet  major-general 
o'  the  volunteers  in  the  war,  and  the  youngest  one  in 
the  whole  army,  too.  Yes,  and  it's  brevet  o'  major- 
general  o'  regulars  he's  just  been  given.  So  '  general ' 
he's  to  be  called,  and  don't  you  forget  it." 

"  General  Custer !  Oh,  I  know  General  Custer ! 
He  was  the  '  boy  general ' !  "  exclaimed  Ned,  excited. 
"  My  father  knew  him,  I  mean.  He  was  my  father's 
general.  Now  I  remember.  I  didn't  think,  at  first." 

"  Well,  he's  a  good  soldier  and  a  fine  man,"  com 
mented  the  bugler,  succinctly ;  "  and  of  the  Sivinth 
Cavalry  he's  goin'  to  make  a  regiment,  or  I'm  much 
mistaken." 

The  carcass  of  the  dead  buffalo  bull  had  been  left 

29 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

behind.  The  prairie  before  was  free  of  other  buffalo, 
for  all  the  great  fleeing  herd  had  vanished.  General 
Custer,  riding  superbly,  his  crimson  tie  ends  and  his 
yellow  hair  streaming  together,  his  dogs  panting  on 
either  side  and  at  his  heels,  was  rapidly  increasing  his 
lead ;  his  young  horse  was  a  racer  and  a  thoroughbred, 
and  the  trooper's  horse  was  heavy  and  ordinary. 
Clinging  tight  to  the  mane  with  his  hands  and  to  the 
saddle-flaps  with  his  shins,  Ned,  secure  and  not  a 
whit  afraid  (he  had  ridden  bare-legged  and  bare-back 
too  often,  with  the  Indians)  enjoyed  the  gallop,  but 
wished  that  they  might  be  nearer  to  "  the  general." 

Black  specks,  moving  about  over  the  surface  of  the 
prairie,  appeared  before.  The  general  slackened  pace, 
and  as  the  bugler  and  Ned  approached  he  ordered,  over 
his  shoulder: 

"  Sound  the  rally." 

Bugler  Odell  attempted  to  salute,  to  pull  his  horse 
down  to  a  trot,  and  to  raise  his  bugle  to  his  mouth — 
all  in  a  moment.  But  the  horse  shook  its  head  and 
champed  and  tugged,  and  the  bugle,  swinging  be 
tween  the  man  rider  and  the  boy  rider,  wedged  fast. 
Odell  muttered  several  angry,  chagrined  remarks. 

"  I'll  blow  it,"  offered  Ned,  friendly.    "  Shall  I  ?  " 

"  You!  "  grunted  Trooper  Odell.  "  It's  the  rally, 
by  the  bugle,  the  general  wants.  If  you'll  hold  this 

hoss  a  second,  now "  and  red  and  flustered  he 

hauled  hard. 

"  I'll  blow  it.    I  can,"  repeated  Ned,  eagerly,  anx- 

30 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

ious  to  show  his  mettle  and  to  help  the  embarrassed 
OdelL 

As  the  obstinate  horse  pranced  the  bugle  swung  free 
again,  jerked  fairly  around  so  that  Ned  needed  only 
to  reach  and  grab  it.  He  promptly  applied  it  to  his  lips 
(while  clutching  tight  with  his  one  hand  and  his  two 
shins),  and  blew  the  rally  the  best  that  he  could. 
Clear  and  passably  regular  pealed  the  high  notes. 

"  Good  enough,  b'  gorry !  "  muttered  Odell.  "  But 
what'll  the  general  say?  Give  me  that  horn." 

The  moment  that  the  last  note  died  away  the  gen 
eral  had  wheeled  his  horse,  to  gaze. 

"  Who  blew  that  call  ?  "  he  shouted. 

"I  did,"  announced  Ned,  bravely.  "Mr.  Odell 
was  managing  his  horse,  and  he  didn't  say  I  might 
but  I  did." 

"  The  boy  took  the  horn  before  I  could  stop  him, 
sir,"  explained  the  flurried  Odell.  "  I'll  blow  it  now, 

sir.  This  pesky  hoss "  and  Bugler  Odell  jerked 

savagely  at  the  bit,  pulling  his  mount  to  its  haunches. 

"  He  blew  it  mighty  well,  then,"  declared  General 
Custer.  "  Try  it  again,  boy.  Put  more  force  behind  it, 
so  those  soldiers  yonder'll  hear.  We're  sounding  the 
rally  for  them  to  come ;  see  ?  " 

Tremendously  Ned  blew — glueing  his  lips  and  puf 
fing  his  cheeks  and  popping  his  eyes.  Far  pealed  the 
notes,  across  the  brown  prairie.  And  now  the  specks 
must  have  heard,  for  by  twos  and  threes  they  were 

31 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

coming,  ever  growing  larger,  and  turning  into 
mounted  men. 

The  general  jogged  easily,  with  Bugler  Odell  and 
Ned  close  behind  him. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  the  bugle?  "  he  demanded. 

"  From  my  father,"  answered  Ned,  proudly.  "  He 
knew  all  the  army  calls." 

"  He  did,  did  he?     Where'd  he  learn  them?  " 

"  In  the  war.    He  was  a  bugler." 

"What  regiment?" 

"  Sixth  Michigan  Cavalry." 

"What!"  General  Custer  stopped  his  horse,  as 
he  turned  in  the  saddle  and  scrutinized  Ned,  his  blue 
eyes  shining.  "Was  he  a  Michigander?  In  my  old 
brigade,  then !  He  was  one  of  my  boys !  The  son  or 
daughter  of  any  of  my  boys  is  like  one  of  my  own 
family.  Of  course  you'll  come  with  me  to  Fort  Riley. 
What  do  you  want  to  do  ?  " 

Sudden  resolve  seized  Ned. 

"  I'd  like  to  join  the  army,  too,  and  hunt  Indians 
until  I  find  my  sister." 

"  You  shall,"  declared  the  general,  enthusiastically. 
"  I'll  enlist  you  as  a  bugler  with  the  Seventh  Cavalry, 
and  we'll  hunt  Indians  together  and  find  your  sister, 
I'm  sure.  Shake  hands  on  it."  He  skillfully  reined 
his  restless  bay  to  the  side  of  the  troop  horse  and 
extended  his  hand.  With  a  strong  grip  his  nervous 
gauntlet  closed  warmly  about  Ned's  slim  scarred  fin 
gers.  "  Now  tell  me  more  about  your  father." 

32 


A  WAIF  ON  THE  PRAIRIE 

So,  as  they  rode  slowly,  biding  the  arrival  of  the 
soldiery,  Ned  did:  relating  to  this  singularly  young 
general  (the  youngest,  had  said  Bugler  Odell,  in  the 
whole  army,  commanding  men,  like  Ned's  father, 
almost  twice  his  age)  the  story  of  how  Mr.  Fletcher, 
after  the  War,  had  moved  to  the  frontier  of  Colorado 
Territory  and  had  located  upon  a  ranch;  how  outlaw 
Cheyennes  and  Sioux,  called  "  Dog  Soldiers,"  had 
raided  the  ranch,  killing  him  in  the  field,  burning  the 
buildings  and  carrying  off  Ned,  Ned's  mother,  and  his 
sister  who  was  eight. 

While  the  general  was  asking  questions,  the  other 
soldiers,  responding  to  the  "  rally,"  began  to  arrive. 


8 


II 

AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 


EARLY  came  a  lancer,  bearing  the  swallow-forked 
guidon,  his  steed  blown  and  wet.  The  soldiers 
gathered  about  him. 

Foremost  of  the  riders  was  a  man  not  a  soldier; 
at  least,  he  looked  more  like  a  handsome,  gentle 
manly  desperado.  He  sat  easy  and  lithe  and 
broad-shouldered;  from  under  his  wide-brimmed 
black  hat,  fell  down  upon  the  shoulders  long,  curling 
light  hair.  Belted  about  his  waist  was  a  pair  of 
ivory-handled  revolvers,  one  at  either  thigh.  He  wore 
shiny,  flexible  boots  reaching  to  the  knee ;  tight-fitting 
white  doe-skin  riding-breeches;  a  fine  blue-flannel 
shirt  open  at  the  throat,  and  trimmed  down  the  front 
with  red ;  around  his  throat  was  loosely  knotted  a  blue 
silk  handkerchief;  upon  his  hands  were  well-fringed 
gauntlet  gloves.  His  skin  was  fair,  with  just  a  touch 
of  sun-brown ;  a  long  blonde  moustache  drooped  along 
either  side  of  a  firm  clean  chin;  his  nose  was  a  bold 
hawk  nose,  and  as  piercing  as  the  eyes  of  a  hawk 
were  his  eyes  of  steely  blue.  Altogether,  he  seemed 
a  man  to  be  reckoned  with. 

34 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

"  Well,  Bill,"  addressed  the  general,  buoyantly, 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  desert  you  fellows,  but  I  needed 
exercise." 

"  I  see,"  nodded  Bill,  gravely.  His  keen,  steely 
eyes  noted  the  buffalo  tongue;  they  read  every  detail 
of  Ned's  face  and  figure;  and  swiftly  sweeping  the 
horizon  they  returned  to  him. 

"  Killed  a  big  bull  and  found  a  small  boy,"  con 
tinued  the  general.  "  Ned,  this  gentleman  is  Mr. 
James  B.  Hickok,  better  known  as  Wild  Bill.  He's 
a  valuable  friend  to  have." 

Mr.  Hickok  reined  forward  his  horse,  and  offered 
Ned  his  hand. 

"  How  do  you  do  ? "  he  spoke,  politely.  His 
voice  was  soft,  but  vibrant,  and  Ned  liked  him. 
"  Count  me  at  your  service." 

Ned  was  certain  that  Mr.  Hickok  was  not  making 
fun  of  him;  and,  abashed,  he  shook  hands.  Where 
upon  Mr.  Hickok  gracefully  reined  his  horse  back 
to  the  general. 

All  the  soldiers  had  arrived.  "  By  their  blanket- 
rolls  and  haversacks,  they  must  be  on  a  scout,"  thought 
Ned,  "  and  not  merely  on  a  hunt."  Among  the  last 
to  arrive  was  another  young  officer — a  captain,  said  the 
double  bars  of  his  shoulder-straps. 

"  All  right,  Hamilton.  Now  that  you've  shown 
us  you're  safe,  we'll  go  on,"  called  the  general,  still 
in  joking  frame  of  mind.  That  he  had  distanced  all 

35 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

his  company  and  had  an  adventure  pleased  him 
immensely. 

With  quick  gesture  he  waved  his  hand,  and  accom 
panied  by  Mr.  Hickok  trotted  to  the  fore.  Captain 
Hamilton  escorted  at  one  side  of  the  column,  as  two 
by  two  the  soldiery  strung  out.  Behind  the  general 
rode  the  lance-corporal,  and  Bugler  Odell,  Ned  holding 
tightly  to  him.  Now  and  then  Bugler  Odell  let  in 
formation  drift  over  Ned's  shoulder. 

"  That  be  Wild  Bill,"  he  said,  speaking  guardedly. 
'  'Tis  the  name  he  likes  best.  He's  chief  scout  for  the 
general,  and  peace-keeper  all  'round,  for  he's  boss 
o'  Riley,  I  tell  ye.  Six-foot  two  he  stands  in  his  socks ; 
ye  can  span  his  waist  with  your  hands.  Quickest  shot 
with  the  pistol  I  ever  saw;  chain  lightnin'  can't  beat 
him.  But  you  wouldn't  think  he  was  such  a  tarrer,  to 
speak  with  him.  And  when  he's  mad  he  doesn't  talk 
much  louder  or  say  much  more ;  yet  you  bet  wan  word 
and  wan  look  from  him  be  plinty  to  make  the  worst 
badman  on  the  trail  calm  down  and  say,  '  Certainly, 
Bill.  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Hickok.'  He  served  in  the  Kan 
sas  troubles  before  the  War,  when  the  free-soil  men 
and  the  slavery  men  were  makin'  the  border  a  red-hot 
place.  He  was  a  Union  scout  out  here  durin'  the  War, 
too,  and  fought  at  the  battle  o'  Pea  Ridge  down  in 
Arkansas.  Wan  time,  in  Sixty-wan,  alone  in  a  room 
he  was  attacked  by  ten  border-ruffians,  hand  to  hand, 
and  when  it  was  over  they  were  all  dead  and  he 

36 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

was  'most  dead  with  eleven  buckshot  in  him  and 
thirteen  other  wounds." 

"  Is  he  a  soldier  now  ?  "  queried  Ned,  awed. 

"  Nope;  not  what  you  might  call  a  reg'lar  soldier. 
He's  a  border-man — a  frontiersman.  Some  might  call 
him  a  disperado,  behind  his  back ;  and  some  a  gambler ; 
but  anyway,  he's  got  the  bravery  and  the  nerve,  and  his 
word  is  good  as  gold,  and  that's  the  kind  o'  men  needed 
out  in  this  country." 

They  rode  on,  while  Ned  pondered  over  the  char 
acter  of  the  terrible  Wild  Bill  Hickok.  He  had  ap 
peared  as  such  a  mildly  speaking,  gentlemanly  indi 
vidual,  that  Bugler  Odell's  description  did  not  seem 
to  fit. 

"  The  Sivinth  Cavalry  be  gettin'  its  share  o'  good 
men,"  resumed  Bugler  Odell,  confidentially.  "  Yon 
captain — he's  a  foine  wan,  and  a  great  joker.  Captain 
Hamilton,  I  mean.  Sure,  he's  a  lieutenant-colonel, 
from  the  War;  but  he  ranks  as  captain  o'  Reg'lars, 
by  appointment  to  the  Sivinth.  His  grandfather  was 
a  big  man  by  the  name  o'  Alexander  Hamilton.  Ah, 
the  Sivinth  be  officered  entirely  by  generals  and 
colonels  and  majors ;  and  titles  be  so  thick  they  make 
your  head  swim.  I'm  only  plain  sergeant,  but  some 
o'  the  enlisted  men  be  generals,  by  courtesy,  as  ye'll 
find  out." 

"  Right  you  are,"  agreed  the  lance-corporal.  "  The 
War  left  many  a  man  with  soldierin'  as  his  only  job." 

Wild  Bill  was  an  accurate  scout,  for  as  the  sun  was 

87 


setting  they  all  sighted  directly  ahead,  high  upon  a 
table-land  backed  by  hills,  an  irregular  group  of  build 
ings,  the  windows  flashing  above  the  level  dun  ex 
panse  below.  Between  were  trees,  marking  a  stream. 

"  There's  Riley,"  announced  Bugler  Odell,  pointing. 
"  Below  is  the  Smoky  Hill  Fork  o'  the  Republican, 
and  the  line  o'  cottonwoods  runnin'  to  north'ard  be  the 
Republican  itself.  The  post  sits  in  the  elbow  o'  the 
two,  where  they  join  and  make  the  Kaw  or  Kansas." 

As  they  approached  Ned  gazed  curiously.  The 
post  made  quite  a  showing,  and  everybody  in  the 
column  seemed  glad  to  be  getting  back.  Now  the 
flag-staff  of  the  post,  with  the  colors  still  floating, 
showed  clearly.  The  general  stirred  restlessly  in  his 
saddle,  as  if  eager  to  shorten  the  distance.  The  dogs, 
which  had  been  ranging  far  and  wide,  galloped  further 
ahead,  and  further,  anon  halting  to  look  hopefully 
behind  them  and  see  that  the  column  were  surely  com 
ing  on. 

Suddenly  across  the  rosy-purple  glow  making  lovely 
the  flat  landscape,  wafted  high  and  sweet  the  notes 
of  a  bugle  at  the  post.  All  the  column  listened — or 
appeared  to  listen. 

"  'Tis  retreat ;  boom  goes  the  avenin'  gun  and  down 
comes  the  flag,"  explained  Bugler  Odell,  as  if  Ned 
did  not  know. 

But  Ned  did  know,  and  he  nodded  to  himself ;  for 
this  was  one  of  the  army  calls  taught  him  by  his 
father. 

38 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

The  long  notes  died  amidst  a  dull  "  Boom ! "  by 
the  evening  gun;  and  Ned  saw  the  flag  slide  down  the 
tall  pole. 

"  Faith,  we'll  be  locked  out,"  chuckled  Odell,  as  a 
joke.  "The  general  won't  like  that;  he's  wantin'  to 
be  home  with  his  wife." 

"  Sound  the  trot,"  bade  the  general,  curtly,  with 
out  turning  head. 

Bugler  Odell  did  so;  and  through  the  clattering 
column  rang  the  brisk  voice  of  young  Captain  Hamil 
ton  :  "  Trot — march !  "  Away  they  trotted,  all,  can 
teens  jingling,  carbines  jolting,  saddles  creaking,  horses 
grunting.  Close  before  was  the  sparse  timber  of  the 
Republican  River,  flowing  from  the  north;  this  river 
they  evidently  must  cross,  as  the  post  was  upon  the 
other  side. 

"  Give  them  Garryowen,  Hamilton,"  called  the 
general.  And  he  added,  aside :  "  Then  they'll  have 
supper  hot." 

Captain  Hamilton  nodded  at  Bugler  Odell ;  and  now 
as  the  column  was  splashing  into  the  ford  Odell  blew  a 
lively  lilt.  It  was  one  of  the  merriest,  most  stirring 
tunes  that  Ned  ever  had  heard,  and  he  resolved  to 
learn  it.  It  put  life  into  the  whole  column. 

"  That's  a  new  wan  to  ye,  I'll  wager,"  remarked 
Odell,  having  paused  as  for  breath.  "  'Tis  an  Irish 
song  that  the  general  likes,  and  it's  the  march  o'  the 
Sivinth  Cavalry." 

The  post  was  above  the  opposite  bank.     It  stood 

39 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUbTER 

forth  clear  in  the  crisp  air,  and  among  the  buildings 
Ned  could  see  figures  scurrying  to  and  fro.  Some  of 
them  were  women.  Away  sped  the  dogs,  floundering 
through  the  shallows,  and  scrambling  up  the  ascent, 
racing  for  supper.  Next  out  scrambled  the  horses, 
climbing  the  steep,  beaten  trail  that  led  from  the  river 
bed  to  the  flat  plateau  above ;  and  at  trot  the  returning 
column  soon  rode  into  the  army  post  of  old  Fort 
Riley. 

Bleak  it  was;  composed  of  bare  but  substantial 
barracks  and  officers'  quarters,  two  stories  high,  of 
whitish  stone  laid  in  plaster.  These  buildings,  lined 
with  verandas,  faced  inward,  forming  a  broken  square. 
Outside  the  square  were  several  other  buildings,  of 
stone  and  boards — being,  as  Ned  was  soon  told,  the 
store-houses  and  stables. 

As  soon  as  the  column  halted,  the  general  nimbly 
dismounted,  and  leaving  his  horse  for  his  orderly  and 
the  dismissal  of  the  column  for  Captain  Hamilton, 
he  made  straight  for  two  women  who  were  standing 
expectantly  awaiting  him,  and  overwhelmed  by  the 
barking  dogs. 

One  he  kissed  gladly,  while  to  the  other  he  gave 
his  free  hand. 

"  Here  we  are,  Libbie,"  Ned  heard  him  say. 
"  Ready  for  Lizzie's  best.  I've  brought  her  a  buffalo 
tongue — a  big  one.  And  a  recruit,  too."  With  his  arm 
about  the  woman's  shoulders  he  beckoned  to  Ned. 
"  Oil,  Ned !  Come  here." 

40 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

Ned  went  slowly  forward.  He  was  ashamed  of 
his  rags. 

The  woman  whom  the  general  was  treating  so 
affectionately  was  small  and  dark-eyed  and  sweet;  the 
other  woman  was  a  pretty  girl,  plump  and  roguish  and 
very  curly-headed,  with  a  profusion  of  dancing  golden 
hair.  She  was  smiling  across  at  Captain  Hamilton, 
who  now  had  dismissed  the  column. 

"  Ned,  one  of  these  ladies  is  my  wife  Mrs.  Custer, 
and  the  other  is  our  guest,  Miss  Diana,"  informed  the 
general,  a  twinkle  in  his  blue  eyes.  "  You  can  guess 
which  is  which.  I  picked  Ned  up  on  the  prairie,  at  the 
same  time  I  got  the  buffalo — and  when  the  buffalo  was 
about  to  get  him,"  he  explained,  to  the  twain.  "  He 
wants  to  be  a  soldier,  and  I  think  we'll  make  a  bugler 
of  him.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  poor  boy !  "  exclaimed  the  dark-eyed  little 
woman,  holding  to  Ned  both  her  hands,  while  Miss 
Diana  smiled  brightly  upon  him.  "  Is  he  lost,  Autie?  " 

"  Same  old  story,"  answered  the  general,  soberly. 
"A  waif  from  another  Indian  raid.  I'll  tell  you  about  it. 
But  he'll  stay  with  us,  and  we're  going  to  find  his  sister 
for  him.  She's  all  that's  left — somewhere  out  among 
the  tribes." 

"  Oh !  "  gasped  both  women. 

"  He  can  come  right  along  with  us,  can't  he  ?  " 
queried  Mrs.  Custer.  "  He  must  be  hungry  and  he 
ought  to  have  some  clothes." 

41 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  N-no,  he'd  better  stay  with  Odell,"  decided  the 
general.  "  I'll  have  the  quartermaster  outfit  him. 
He  must  mess  with  the  other  men.  He's  to  be  en 
listed  as  a  bugler." 

Old  Fort  Riley  proved  a  bustling  place.  It  had  been 
located  in  the  fall  of  1852,  and  rebuilt  in  1855  to 
afford  protection  to  the  settlers  who  were  passing  west 
ward  up  along  the  Kansas  River  Valley.  Before  it  was 
christened  in  honor  of  General  Bennet  C.  Riley  it  had 
been  called  Camp  Center,  because  it  was  supposed  to  be 
the  geographical  center  of  the  United  States.  Now  it 
was  rapidly  filling  up  with  the  recruits  for  the  new 
Seventh  United  States  Cavalry.  Many  other  people 
also  were  flocking  through  by  ox-team,  mule  and  horse. 
The  rails  of  the  westward  creeping  Kansas  Pacific 
branch  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad  had  approached, 
to  continue  on  and  on,  to  Denver. 

The  post  was  upon  a  broad  table-land  high  above 
the  rivers,  without  a  tree  or  a  shrub,  where  the  wind 
always  blew.  The  Republican  River,  flowing  down 
from  the  northward,  and  the  Smoky  Hill,  flowing  in 
from  the  westward,  joined  currents;  and  below  the  fort 
rolled  eastward  the  noble  Kansas  River,  in  a  beautiful 
valley  dotted  with  settlers'  farms  and  threaded  by  the 
new  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad.  Westward  from  the 
fort  could  be  seen  other  farms,  along  the  Smoky  Hill, 
and  the  town  of  Junction  City. 

Despite  the  bareness  and  the  windiness  (which 
were  nothing  strange  to  Ned,  who  had  lived  on  the 

42 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

Colorado  plains)  Fort  Riley  had  its  charms.  The 
air  was  fresh,  the  view  was  wide,  and  with  the  many 
soldiers  and  the  frequent  arrivals  by  stage  and  by 
horse  or  wagon,  things  were  constantly  happening. 

In  fact,  wherever  the  general  chanced  to  be,  some 
thing  was  bound  to  happen.  He  made  matters  lively — • 
especially  when  he  was  off  duty.  He  and  Mrs.  Custer 
were  great  chums;  and,  next  to  her,  he  liked  horses 
and  dogs — but  which  the  better,  it  was  hard  to  say. 
He  had  a  complete  pack  of  dogs:  fox  hounds  (the  old 
one  called  Rover)  from  Texas,  where  he  had  been 
stationed  after  the  war;  a  pair  of  deer-hounds,  one  of 
whom  was  named  Byron;  Fannie  a  fox  terrier;  stag- 
hound  puppies,  Maida  and  Blucher ;  and  a  bow-legged 
white  bull-dog  named  Turk,  who  was  the  deadly  rival 
of  Byron.  He  had  three  horses,  splendid  ones,  named 
for  army  friends;  Jack  Rucker  was  a  thoroughbred 
mare  from  Texas;  Phil  Sheridan  was  a  blooded  colt 
from  Virginia;  and  Custis  Lee,  a  pacing  horse,  very 
fast,  was  ridden  usually  by  Mrs.  Custer. 

The  post  headquarters,  where  lived  the  general  and 
family,  was  the  best  of  the  double  two-story  stone 
houses  about  the  parade-ground.  It  frequently  echoed 
with  song  and  laughter  and  merry  cries,  and  the 
general's  hunting-horn.  The  household  was  composed 
of  the  general  and  Mrs.  Custer,  "Lizzie  the  faith 
ful  black  cook,  who  had  been  with  the  general  in 
the  South  through  the  War,  and  a  little  negro  boy  who 

43 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

wanted  to  be  a  jockey.  Then  of  course  there  were 
the  dogs.  In  the  other  half  of  the  house  lived  Major 
Alfred  Gibbs  and  family.  Major  Gibbs  was  a  portly, 
carefully-dressed  man,  who  had  been  a  soldier  since 
1846.  He  ranked  next  to  General  Custer. 

In  his  house  the  general  was  the  same  rollicking, 
active  spirit  that  he  was  when  ahorse;  on  duty  at  the 
post  or  afield,  and  mingling  with  the  soldiers,  he  acted 
the  strict  officer.  He  might  joke  with  the  other  officers, 
but  all  the  men  understood  that  he  was  the  chief,  and 
that  he  would  brook  no  intrusion  upon  his  military 
dignity.  Thus,  although  they  called  him  (out  of  his 
hearing)  the  "  old  man,"  and  "  old  Jack  "  (because 
of  the  initials  G.  A.  C,  for  George  Armstrong  Custer, 
on  his  baggage),  they  saluted  promptly,  and  obeyed 
instantly,  and  tried  no  jokes  on  him! 

Through  the  long  winter  officers,  recruits  and 
horses  were  arriving  almost  daily  at  Fort  Riley,  to 
bring  up  the  Seventh  Cavalry  roll.  Ned  grew  to  know 
them  all.  The  yellow-haired,  boyish  General  Custer 
remained  in  command;  for  although  he  ranked  as 
lieutenant-colonel,  his  superior  officer  of  the  regiment, 
Colonel  Andrew  Jackson  Smith,  a  major-general  and 
a  veteran,  who  dated  back  to  1838,  was  kept  on  duty 
elsewhere.  Therefore  "  old  Jack  "  held  the  reins  at 
the  post — and  the  soldiers  were  speedily  brought  to 
know  it. 

Of  the  younger  officers  Ned  liked  especially  his 
Captain,  Louis  M.  Hamilton — who  was  also  a  lieu- 

44 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

tenant-colonel;  First  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer,  the 
general's  light-hearted  younger  brother,  a  lieutenant* 
colonel  who  had  enlisted  in  the  war  at  sixteen  and  wore 
two  medals  for  enemy's  flags  captured ;  Captain  Myles 
Keogh,  who  had  served  the  Pope  as  well  as  in  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac;  Lieutenant  Myles  Moylan  the 
adjutant;  and  the  young  second  lieutenants  who  were 
called  "shave-tails"  and  "tad-poles"  and  "  plebes." 

Wild  Bill,  the  frontiersman  scout,  was  at  the  post 
frequently,  passing  up  and  down,  by  horse  or  stage, 
along  the  trail  west.  He  was  as  particular  in  his  dress 
as  was  old  Major  Gibbs ;  everything  that  he  wore  was 
of  the  finest  material,  from  the  ruffle-pleated  soft  white 
shirt  and  broad-cloth  in  Junction  City  to  the  blue 
flannel  shirt  and  riding-breeches  on  the  trail.  No 
matter  how  dressed,  he  was  always  the  same  quiet, 
courteous  personage — but  he  never  was  seen  without 
the  two  ivory-handled  revolvers  ready  at  his  hips. 
Report  said  that  he  could  shoot  to  the  centre  without 
sighting ;  and  could  shoot  backward  over  his  shoulder 
or  under  his  arm,  with  an  equal  deadliness. 

All  the  winter  the  soldiers  were  steadily  drilled,  and 
put  under  constant  discipline.  "  Whipped  into  shape," 
said  Bugler  Odell.  Some  men  complained,  and  some 
deserted;  but  the  better  men  realized  that  the  strict 
training  was  necessary. 

Bugles  were  ringing  from  early  till  late.  Two 
buglers  were  attached  to  each  company.  Ned  found 
himself  assigned  to  the  company  of  Captain  Hamilton, 

45 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

and  he  was  glad  of  that.  Now  he  wore  the  bugler's 
uniform,  which  had  narrow  double  strips  of  yellow 
down  the  trousers,  and  yellow  braid  across  the  chest. 
It  really  was  a  uniform  equal  to  that  of  any  officer; 
but 

"  All  stripes  and  no  authority,"  with  a  laugh  de 
clared  Odell,  who  was  chief  bugler.  "  That's  what 
they  say  o'  the  trumpeter." 

The  winter  passed  without  any  Indian  rights,  but 
with  the  Seventh  Cavalry  getting  ready.  The  rail 
road  trains  arrived,  and  excursionists  were  more  plenti 
ful  than  ever :  some  wanted  to  hunt  buffalo  and  some 
wanted  to  see  Indians,  and  some  wanted  to  look  for 
land.  Rumors  reported  that  the  Cheyennes  and  the 
Sioux  and  the  Arapahos  to  the  westward  were  not 
keeping  their  promises;  and  that  this  spring  they 
would  oppose  the  further  advance  of  the  railroad 
through  their  hunting  grounds.  The  settlers  of 
western  Kansas  were  becoming  alarmed  again.  The 
Seventh  Cavalry  must  protect  them,  and  the  Smoky 
Hill  stage  and  emigrant  route  to  Denver,  and  the 
railroad  survey. 

Soon  was  it  known  that  as  quick  as  the  spring 
opened  the  Seventh  Cavalry  would  take  the  field.  By 
this  time  Ned,  under  the  teaching  of  Chief  Bugler 
Odell,  was  a  thorough  trumpeter.  Reveille,  sick  call, 
mess  call,  stables,  boots  and  saddles,  the  assembly, 
drill,  fire,  trot,  charge,  tattoo,  taps — he  knew  them  all. 

46 


AT  OLD  FORT  RILEY 

He  had  learned  "The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me";  and 
he  had  learned  "  Garryowen  " 

"  Our  hearts  so  stout  have  got  us  fame, 
For  soon  'tis  known  from  whence  we  came, 
Where'er  we  go  they  dread  the  name 
Of  Garryowen  in  glory." 

That  inspiring  tune  to  which  had  charged  the  Custer 
Third  Brigade  in  the  War,  and  which  was  now  adopted 
by  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 

So,  having  been  by  Odell  pronounced  a  "  credit  to 
the  regiment,"  Ned  felt  himself  a  soldier  and  ready 
with  the  other  soldiers. 


Ill 

THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 


"  IT'S  like  this,"  said  Odell,  after  mess.  "  We're 
bound  to  go.  Those  'Rapahos  and  Cheyennes  and 
Kiowas  and  'Paches  and  Sioux  out  yon  are  ready  to 
act  mean  again,  and  the  army'll  have  to  calm  'em 
down.  By  their  treaty  o'  Sixty-foive  didn't  they 
promise  to  keep  away  from  the  overland  trails,  and 
not  camp  by  day  or  by  night  within  ten  miles  o'  any 
of  'em,  or  visit  any  white  settlement  without  permis 
sion  beforehand  ?  And  what  did  they  do  ?  Only  last 
summer  they  went  on  their  murtherin'  raids,  time 
after  time,  and  the  treaty  not  a  year  old  yet.  Didn't 
they  kill  and  rob  right  and  lift  through  the  settlements 
o'  the  Saline  and  the  Solomon,  jist  west  o'  here,  drivin' 
the  farmers  out?  And  haven't  they  been  botherin* 
the  stage  road  up  along  the  Smoky,  and  the  south 
west  travel  by  the  Santy  Fee  Trail,  and  threatenin' 
the  railroad  advance  ?  " 

"  They  blame  it  on  old  Cut  Nose  and  Pawnee 
Killer's  band  of  Dog  Soldiers,"  spoke  somebody. 
"  Those  Dog  Soldiers  weren't  there  to  sign  the  treaty, 
and  they  say  they  aren't  bound  by  it." 

48 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

"  Who  are  those  Dog  Soldiers,  except  the  worst 
rascals  out  of  all  the  tribes  ? "  grunted  Sergeant 
Henderson,  who  had  fought  Indians  before  the  Sixties. 
"  I  know  'em." 

"  Well,  this  country  belonged  to  the  Indians,  first, 
didn't  it?"  pursued  a  recruit.  "We're  crossing  it 
without  asking  *  by  your  leave,'  and  we're  settling  in 
the  midst  of  it  and  taking  all  we  can  get.  I  hear  buffalo 
are  scarcer  than  they  used  to  be,  too,  since  the.  whites 
opened  up  the  country.  That's  what  the  Indians  de 
pend  on  for  a  living — the  buffalo." 

"  Ah,  now,  mebbe  you're  right,  and  I  think  myself 
the  Injuns  are  treated  a  bit  shabbily,  at  times,"  re 
sponded  Odell.  "  There  are  rascals  on  both  sides. 
But  what  would  ye  do?  Save  back  all  this  western 
country  jist  for  the  Injun  to  hunt  on?  Wan  Injun 
needs  about  ten  square  mile  o'  territory,  and  he  laves 
it  the  same  as  he  found  it.  The  white  man  takes  a 
half  square  mile — yes,  and  much  less — and  he  stays 
with  it  and  improves  it;  and  twinty  white  men  and 
their  families  can  live  in  the  space  required  by  wan 
Injun  jist  for  huntin'  whilst  the  women  do  the  work." 

"As  long  as  there's  a  trail  unfenced,  when  the 
grass  greens  in  the  spring  and  the  willow  and  cotton- 
wood  buds  swell,  the  Injun — and  specially  the  young 
Injun — will  grow  uneasy,"  quoth  Sergeant  Hender 
son.  "  Spring  is  war  time,  summer  is  visiting  time, 
fall  is  hunt  time.  In  winter  the  Injuns  are  glad  to 
have  the  Government  take  care  of  'em.  We're  pushing 

4  49 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

two  railroads  through,  whites  are  getting  thicker, 
Injuns  are  being  bossed  by  the  Government  and 
cheated  by  traders  and  crowded  by  settlers,  and  they 
see  nothin'  for  'em  but  to  clean  the  country  out — if 
they  can." 

Wild  Bill  had  ridden  at  canter  into  the  parade 
ground,  and  across  to  headquarters.  At  the  veranda 
of  the  general's  house  he  pulled  short,  and  swung  to 
ground,  as  if  he  had  been  sent  for.  Then  he  entered. 

When  he  came  out,  presently,  he  was  riding  away 
in  a  great  hurry,  when  the  sergeant  hailed  him,  passing. 

"What's  the  news,  Bill?" 

"  Sharpen  your  sabres,"  spoke  Wild  Bill,  briefly, 
without  drawing  rein. 

He  rode  on,  and  turned  into  the  stage  road  which 
led  west,  up  the  Smoky  Sill  River.  Evidently  he  was 
carrying  dispatches  to  Forts  Marker  and  Hays,  the 
new  Seventh  Cavalry  posts  that  were  guarding  the 
further  advance  of  the  Kansas  Pacific. 

Wild  Bill  had  spoken  to  the  point,  as  always.    He 
wasted  no  words.     Before  the  afternoon  drill,  there, 
had  spread  through  the  post  like  wildfire  the  word) 
that  the  Seventh  Cavalry  must  be  prepared  to  take  the 
field,  equipped  for  service,  within  a  fortnight. 

This  was  great  news.  Old  Fort  Riley  seethed  with 
it.  Now  in  these  the  days  of  early  March  there  was  a 
sudden  increase  of  mounted  drills  long  and  hard;  an 
effort  at  target  practice  with  the  stubby  Spencer  re 
peating  carbines — proving  that  most  of  the  men  shot 

00 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

no  better  than  they  rode ;  shoeing  of  horses  and  tinker 
ing  of  wagons  at  the  fort  smithy;  and  grinding  of 
sabers  on  the  post  grind-stones. 

Passing  a  grind-stone  Ned  noticed  private  Malloy 
busily  engaged  in  applying  the  edge  of  an  unusually 
long  sabre.  Malloy  was  the  "  striker "  or  officer's 
handy-man  on  duty  at  the  general's  house.  He  looked 
up  at  Ned,  and,  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  brow, 
grinned.  So  did  the  soldier  who  was  turning  for  him. 

"  Do  you  recognize  the  big  toad-sticker?  "  queried 
Malloy. 

Ned  doubtfully  shook  his  head.  Malloy  obligingly 
handed  it  to  him. 

"  Look  at  it  an'  heft  it.  It's  the  general's. 
Thought  mebbe  you'd  seen  it  hanging  on  his  wall. 
'Tis  one  captured  in  the  War;  an'  the  noise  of  the 
grinding  sort  o'  reminded  him  he  wanted  it  whetted 
up.  '  Malloy,'  said  he,  *  polish  that  big  scalping  knife 
o'  mine  along  with  the  rest  of  'em.' ' 

"  Can  you  swing  it  ?  "  bantered  the  other  soldier. 

Ned  lifted  the  sabre  and  examined  it.  It  was  as 
long  as  he  was  tall :  was  far  longer  and  heavier  than 
regulation.  On  the  bright  blade  were  letters  engraved : 

Do  not  draw  me  without  cause; 
Do  not  sheathe  me  without  honor. 

What  a  sword !  No,  Ned  could  not  swing  it.  He 
handed  it  back. 


OK  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  That's  a  real  Damascus  steel,  they  say,"  in 
formed  Malloy's  helper. 

"  Is  the  general  going  to  take  it  on  the  march?" 
asked  Ned,  expectantly. 

"  No,  I  reckon  not,"  answered  Malloy ;  "  but  he 
would  if  he  wanted  to,  I'll  wager — just  as  he  wears 
his  hair  long  an'  his  tie  red.  He's  a  great  man  for 
having  his  own  way,  is  old  Jack." 

"  Headstrong,  you  might  call  him,"  added  the  other 
man.  "  Like  chasm'  a  buffalo,  alone  and  'way  off 
from  his  command,  an'  not  knowin'  but  that  Injuns 
are  right  over  the  next  ridge." 

The  yellow  hair  and  quick  voice  of  the  general 
were  everywhere,  as  with  prompt  eyes  and  mind  he 
oversaw  the  post  preparations.  For  now  was  it  known 
that  this  was  to  be  an  important  march,  wherever  it 
led;  with  infantry  and  artillery  as  well  as  cavalry, 
and  with  Major-General  Winfield  Scott  Hancock  him 
self  accompanying.  The  purpose,  it  seemed,  was  to 
have  a  talk  with  the  Indians,  and  to  show  them  that 
the  United  States  was  ready  with  soldiers  to  protect 
the  white  people  on  the  plains. 

General  Hancock  was  the  commander  of  the 
Military  Department  of  the  Missouri.  His  head 
quarters  were  Fort  Leavenworth,  on  the  Missouri 
River  at  the  eastern  border  of  Kansas.  From  Fort 
Leavenworth  were  coming  the  artillery  and  most  of 
the  infantry.  In  all  there  would  be  about  1400  men, 
thought  Odell, 

52 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

The  expedition  gavp  to  Fort  Riley  a  war-like 
appearance.  First  the  scouts  began  to  collect.  Wild 
Bill  was  there  anyway;  and  came  in,  among  others,  a 
young  scout  named  Cody — Bill  Cody.  He  had  been  at 
Riley,  off  and  on,  before.  With  his  flowing  dark  hair, 
his  wide  black  eyes,  his  silky  moustache  and  goatee 
and  his  buckskins  and  weapons,  he  looked  indeed  en 
titled  to  considerable  respect. 

"Do  you  know  that  man?"  had  asked  Odell,  of 
Ned. 

"  No." 

"  He's  a  good  wan.  He's  Pony  Express  Bill. 
That's  what  they  used  to  call  him.  Was  the  youngest 
pony  express  rider  on  the  line.  Faith,  he  rode  when 
he  wasn't  any  older  than  you,  my  lad,  carryin'  the  mail 
across  the  plains.  Now  he  ranks  up  with  Wild  Bill 
and  the  rist  o'  the  scouts.  And  they  do  say  he's  the 
best  buffalo  hunter,  white  or  red,  west  o'  Leaven- 
worth." 

There  also  was  a  squat  little  Mexican,  swart  and 
pock-marked  and  very  homely,  whom  everybody 
styled  Romeo  because  his  name  was  Romero.  And 
at  the  last  sauntered  in  a  big-nosed  bluish-eyed  man, 
with  much  brick-red  hair  and  whiskers  mingling, 
whose  title  was  California  Joe. 

California  Joe  never  was  seen  without  his  greasy 
black  slouch  hat  on  his  abundant  hair,  and  his  short, 
black  briar  pipe  between  his  whiskered  lips.  Baggy 
trousers  were  tucked  deep  into  dusty  boots,  and  a 

58 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

venerable  cavalry  overcoat  was  draped  over  several 
layers  of  other  garments.  He  rode  a  large  mule, 
which  he  declared  beat  a  horse  "  all  hollow."  As  he 
lounged  about,  he  was  ready  to  talk  to  anybody.  By 
his  numerous  quaint  remarks  he  plainly  was  an  odd 
character. 

The  arrival  of  the  troops  from  Fort  Leaven  worth 
brought  a  squad  of  Delaware  Indians,  as  more  scouts. 
They  were  from  their  reservation  near  to  Fort 
Leavenworth.  The  chief  was  Fall  Leaf,  a  well-built, 
fierce-looking  old  man,  war  chief  of  the  Delaware 
tribe,  and  a  great  fighter.  Of  the  train  he  grunted: 
"  Heap  good!  Went  whiz!  Beat  buffalo  and  pony." 
Of  the  telegraph  he  said:  "  No  understand,  but  heap 
good.  Heap  swift!  Like  arrow  or  bullet  between 
wide  places;  but  heap  better."  His  nephew  General 
Jackson  was  another  member  of  the  squad.  General 
Jackson  was  slender  and  small,  but  brave. 

The  troops  who  arrived  by  train  from  Fort 
Leavenworth  were  one  battery  of  light  artillery,  and 
six  companies  of  the  Thirty-seventh  Infantry,  with 
a  company  of  engineers,  for  laying  bridges.  They 
pitched  their  tents  outside  the  post. 

At  the  same  time  arrived  also  General  Winfield 
Scott  Hancock  and  his  staff,  including  General  Smith. 
General  Hancock  was  the  department  commander  in 
the  field;  but  General  Smith,  as  colonel  of  the  Seventh 
Cavalry,  commanded  the  march.  A  round-faced, 
heavy  moustached,  energetic  man  proved  to  be  General 

54 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

Smith,  who  would  fall  to  and  do  things  himself  in 
order  to  have  them  done  right.  He  had  made  a  great 
reputation  in  the  late  war. 

All  of  the  officers  were  glad  to  shake  hands  with 
General  Custer,  the  youngest  of  the  whole  bevy  ex 
cept  a  few  "  tads  "  fresh  from  the  Academy  or  just 
appointed  from  the  civil  life. 

But  among  the  most  interesting  of  the  new-comers 
was  a  little  Indian  boy  who  had  been  captured  from 
the  Cheyennes  when,  on  Sand  Creek,  at  Thanksgiving 
time,  1864,  the  Colorado  volunteers  attacked  Black 
Kettle's  village  of  Cheyennes  and  Arapahos  and 
shattered  it.  The  Cheyennes  and  Arapahos  claimed 
that  the  attack  had  been  a  massacre;  and  they  had 
demanded  that  the  whites  return  the  little  boy  and  his 
sister  to  them.  Now  General  Hancock  had  brought 
the  little  boy  along,  to  return  him  and  thus  show  the 
Indians  that  the  heart  of  the  Great  White  Father  at 
Washington  was  good  toward  them.  The  little  boy 
had  been  taken  care  of  in  the  East  and  spoke  English, 
and  except  for  his  color  was  like  any  white  boy. 

"  Sure,  'tis  foolishness,"  declared  Odell,  at  mess. 
"  The  Injuns  will  only  think  the  Government  be  afraid 
of  'em,  and  they'll  take  the  lad  and  do  nothin'  in  return. 
What  of  all  the  white  captives  they  hold?  What  o* 
Ned's  sister?  Do  ye  see  'em  returnin'  her?  " 

"  Well,  but  wasn't  that  Sand  Creek  fight  a  big 
mistake  on  the  part  of  the  soldiers  ?  "  asked  the  talka 
tive  recruit — who  had  been  a  lawyer  before  he  en- 

55 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

listed.  "  As  I  understand,  the  charge  was  made  on  a 
friendly  village  that  had  hoisted  the  United  States 
flag  for  protection." 

"  This  whole  Injtm  question  is  a  problem,  any 
how,"  quoth  Odell.  "  If  you  treat  'em  as  you'd 
treat  white  men,  they  don't  understand,  because  they 
live  by  different  rules.  And  if  you  treat  'em  as  red 
men,  and  fight  fire  with  fire,  then  you  have  to  do 
things  that  a  white  man  ought  not  to  do.  At  Sand 
Creek  the  white  men  took  revenge  jist  as  red  men  take 
revenge ;  and  while  it  wasn't  exactly  a  civilized  way  to 
foight,  nivertheless  it  gave  the  settlers  peace  for  a 
time,  b'  gorry." 

Hearing  this  discussion  gave  Ned  a  great  thought. 
What  if  General  Custer  would  have  the  little  Indian 
boy  traded  for  Ned's  sister?  What  if!  Perhaps  that 
was  the  plan.  But  before  he  ventured  to  ask  the 
general,  he  found  out. 

General  Hancock  was  a  fine  large,  very  military 
man,  with  grayish  mustache  and  short  goatee;  and  he 
looked  and  acted  as  if  he  were  indeed  the  one  to  be 
have  so  gallantly,  as  he  did,  in  the  Mexican  War  and 
at  the  battle  of  Chancellorsville  in  the  Civil  War. 
Ned  had  paused,  to  watch  him  and  General  Custer 
walking  briskly  and  talking  together,  as  they  crossed 
the  parade-ground.  General  Custer  suddenly  caught 
sight  of  Ned,  standing,  and  with  impulsive  gesture 
waved  him  forward. 

56 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

Ned  squared  his  shoulders,  in  military  step  paced 
over,  and  intercepting  the  two  officers  put  his  heels 
together,  pulled  in  his  chin  and  his  stomach,  and 
saluted.  They  acknowledged  the  salute — General 
Hancock  eyeing  him  keenly.  Ned  was  glad  to  feel 
that  he  was  neat  and  soldierly.  So  he  waited. 

"  This  is  the  lad  whose  sister  is  held  by  the  Chey- 
ennes,"  was  saying  General  Custer,  "  and  concerning 
whom  I  addressed  you  the  communication  suggesting 
that  the  Government  trade  the  Cheyenne  boy  for  her." 

"  I  see,"  replied  General  Hancock.  "  The  War 
Department,  as  I  was  obliged  to  inform  you,  decided 
that  such  a  course  was  unwise  considering  that  the 
treaty  agreement  to  return  the  boy  was  made  without 
any  proviso  of  such  a  nature.  I'm  sorry,  my  lad,"  he 
proffered  to  Ned.  . "  But  we'll  try  to  get  back  your 
sister,  just  as  soon  as  we  can." 

Ned's  heart  had  leaped,  only  to  fall  again.  He 
could  not  speak.  General  Custer  must  have  read  his 
disappointment,  for  he  said,  quickly : 

"  I  understand  you  can  blow  the  bugle  pretty  well 
now,  boy." 

"  Yes,  sir.    I  think  so,  sir." 

"Know  all  the  calls;  every  one?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  Garryowen?"  The  Custer  blue  eyes 
danced. 

"Yes,  sir." 

57 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Well,"  continued  General  Custer,  "  you  may  re 
port  at  post  headquarters  as  headquarters  bugler.  But 
I  require  a  good  one.  Remember  that" 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  will,  sir,"  stammered  Ned.  His 
heart  again  thumped,  his  joy  choked  him,  he  knew 
that  he  was  like  a  beet. 

A  bugler,  selected  in  turn  from  the  company 
buglers,  always  was  on  duty  at  headquarters  as  the 
orderly  bugler;  but  Ned  had  been  omitted,  until  he 
knew  the  calls  perfectly.  Now  at  last  he  was  chosen ; 
he  was  entitled  to  take  his  bedding  to  the  orderly's 
room  at  the  headquarters  building ;  he  would  stay  there 
and  sleep  there,  and  would  be  near  the  general  con 
stantly,  to  blow  calls  for  the  post  and  to  go  on 
errands  wherever  the  general  or  the  adjutant  might 
send  him — or  where  Mrs.  Custer,  either,  might  want 
to  send  him.  Some  of  the  buglers  liked  this  duty; 
some  didn't,  though  all  liked  a  chance  at  the  kitchen 
and  Eliza's  cooking !  But  for  Ned  it  wasn't  the  cook 
ing,  especially :  it  was  being  there  with  General  Custer. 

Another  company  of  the  Thirty-seventh  Infantry 
arrived,  and  also  several  companies  of  the  Thirty- 
eighth  Infantry,  a  colored  regiment.  They  were  a 
strange  variety  of  soldiers ;  many  of  them  right  from 
plantations  down  south,  and  not  yet  disciplined  to 
army  life.  They  were  to  garrison  the  post  while  the 
Seventh  Cavalry  was  absent! 

Now  at  the  close  of  March  the  expedition  was 
ready  to  start  Cartridge  boxes  and  belts  were  full, 

58 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

clothing  repaired,  horses  shod,  and  according  to  the 
cavalry  the  infantrymen  (who  were  called  "  dough 
boys  ")  all  had  their  shoes  resoled.  Ned  well  knew 
that  the  general  was  outfitted  better  than  anybody; 
for  at  headquarters  he  had  seen  Mrs.  Custer  flying 
busily  about  the  house,  gathering  things  to  stow  in 
the  stout  blue  mess-chest  bearing  the  letters  "  G.  A1.  C, 
7th  Cav.,  U.  S.  A." 

In  the  little  room  which  was  his  as  orderly  bugler 
or  trumpeter  Ned  awoke  early,  full  of  eagerness.  This 
was  the  day  of  the  start,  and  he  must  do  the  starting. 
According  to  the  trumpeter  orders,  written  by  the 
adjutant  and  tacked  on  the  wall,  and  to  the  clock, 
"  First  Call  "  was  not. due  for  twenty  minutes.  So  he 
must  wait,  until  at  the  exact  second  he  issued  forth 
into  the  pink  dawn,  before  the  office,  as  it  was  called. 
Standing  erect  and  soldierly  at  the  foot  of  the  steps, 
facing  in  all  directions,  he  blew  on  his  battered  brass 
bugle  from  the  quartermaster's  supplies  the  warning 
"  First  Call." 

In  due  time  the  company  buglers  began  to  gather, 
around  the  flag-pole ;  until  as  the  sun  rose  it  was  time 
for  the  reveille.  At  word  from  the  sergeant  of  the 
guard  (who  yawned)  all  put  bugles  to  lips  and 
sounded  the  initial  note.  "  Boom !  "  belched  the  morn 
ing  gun;  up  to  the  top  of  the  pole  sped  the  flag, 
floating  out  gloriously;  and  through  the  bright  morn 
ing  air  pealed,  from  the  buglers  beneath  it,  the 
rollicking  reveille : 

59 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up  this 

morning, 

I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up,  I  can't  get  'em  up  at  all ; 
The  corp'ral's  worse  than  the  private,  the  sergeant's  worse  than 

the  corp'ral, 
The  lieutenant's  worse  than  the  sergeant,  and  the  captain's  worse 

than  them  all. 

At  the  same  moment,  from  the  infantry  and 
artillery  camp  also  pealed  its  reveille. 

There  was  a  brief  pause ;  and  next  must  be  sounded 
the  "  Assembly."  Out  from  the  barracks  poured  the 
men,  buttoning  coats  and  clapping  on  caps,  to  form 
their  companies.  The  sergeants  called  the  roll,  and 
reported  on  the  "  present,  absent,  or  accounted  for." 

Smokes  were  wafting  upward  from  the  chimneys 
of  com^jy  cooks,  and  of  wives  and  servants  in 
officers'  row,  and  soon  Ned,  now  alone,  from  the 
parade-ground  must  sound  "  Mess  " : 

Soup-y,  soup-y,  soup-y,  not  a  single  bean; 
Coff-ee,  coff-ee,  coff-ee,  and  not  a  bit  of  cream; 
Pork-y,  pork-y,  porky,  and  not  a  blamed  streak  o'  lean ! 

So,  too,  he  sounded  "  Stables  " : 

Come  off  to  the  stable  all  ye  who  are  able, 
And  give  your  horses  some  oats  and  some  corn ; 
For  if  you  don't  do  it  your  colonel  will  know  it, 
And  then  you  will  rue  it,  as  sure  as  you're  born. 

And  "Sick  Call": 

Go  get  your  pills,  go  get  your  pills ; 
Go  get  your  pills,  go  get  your  pills ; 
Go  get  your  pills,  go  get  your  pills ; 
Go  get  your  pi-lls.    Go  get  your  pills. 
60 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

However,  there  were  few  sick  men,  on  this  day 
when  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  to  march. 

The  remainder  of  the  garrison  calls,  such  as  guard- 
mount  and  fatigue,  were  assigned  to  the  colored 
infantry  bugler,  for  the  infantry  now  succeeded  to 
the  routine  at  old  Fort  Riley.  The  cavalry  had  some 
thing  better. 

While  on  an  errand  to  the  general's  house,  Ned 
heard  the  preparations  there.  Before  the  steps  of  the 
veranda  stood  the  General's  horse  Phil  Sheridan. 
Within,  the  general  was  saying  goodby  to  Mrs. 
Custer.  Ned  could  hear  him  assuring  the  "  old  lady  " 
(which  was  Mrs.  Custer's  pet  title,  aside  from  Libbie) 
that  it  was  to  be  a  short  campaign;  that  the  Indians 
would  be  afraid  to  make  trouble,  and  that  he  would 
be  back  very  soon. 

"  Sho'  he  will,  Miss  Libbie ;  he'll  be  back  'foh  we 
know  it,"  comforted  Eliza.  "Anyway,  this  cam- 
paignin'  on  the  plains  ain't  wuss'n  campaignin'  in 
Virginny.  You  know  that,  don't  you  ?  " 

Out  came  the  general,  clanking  in  his  spurs  and 
sabre.  Not  now  was  he  wearing  his  buckskin  coat; 
he  was  clad  in  the  full  fatigue  uniform  of  a  lieutenant- 
colonel  of  cavalry.  He  still  wore  his  black  slouch  hat, 
with  gold  cord  and  tassel.  His  dogs  raced  before  him, 
overjoyed  at  the  prospect  of  a  gallop.  Evidently  they 
were  to  go. 

From  headquarters  issued  'Adjutant  Moylan, 
ready  to  mount.  Equipped  with  his  own  sabre  and 

61 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

revolver,  like  any  trumpeter,  Ned  stiffened  to 
attention. 

"  Sound  boots  and  saddles,"  ordered  the  adjutant. 

Ned  put  to  his  lips  his  bugle,  and  blew  loud  and 
clear  the  spirited  bar  of  "  Boots  and  Saddles."  Hither 
and  thither  scurried  the  soldiers,  for  the  stables,  to 
saddle  and  bridle;  and  it  looked  as  if  some  of  them 
had  already  done  so.  The  teamsters  clapped  the  final 
harness  on  their  mules  and  led  them  at  a  trot  for  the 
traces. 

General  Custer,  blue-eyed,  gulden-locked,  bronze- 
faced,  slender  but  wiry,  stood  on  the  veranda  of  his 
house,  tugging  at  his  gauntlets  as  he  watched  the 
bustle.  Mrs.  Custer  stole  out,  with  the  pretty  Diana 
(suspiciously  red-eyed,  Ned  imagined)  and  pressed 
beside  him.  He  placed  his  arm  about  her.  From  the 
door  behind  peered  the  black  face,  turbaned  with  a 
red  bandanna,  of  Eliza. 

"  To  horse,"  bade  the  adjutant,  of  Ned. 

Ned  sounded  "  To  Horse."  Out  from  the  stables 
jostled  the  troopers,  leading  their  horses  to  form  the 
company  lines. 

The  general  stooped  hastily  and  kissed  Mrs.  Custer. 
Down  the  steps  he  clanked,  his  slouch  hat  at  a  cavalier 
angle,  his  officer's  cloak,  yellow  lined,  floating  and 
beneath  it  showing  his  crimson  tie.  He  took  the  reins 
from  the  negro  boy  and  vaulted  upon  Phil  Sheridan. 

Adjutant  Moylan  mounted,  and  Ned  swung 
Of 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

aboard  his  special  horse  Buckie,  at  a  trot  to  follow 
across  the  parade-ground. 

The  companies  were  formed  and  waiting,  each 
man  at  the  head  of  his  horse.  The  infantry  drums 
and  bugles  also  had  been  sounding;  all  the  tents  had 
been  struck,  and  the  lines  of  blue  and  white  were 
standing  at  a  carry,  in  a  "right  dress." 

"  Prepare  to  mount ! "  shouted  General  Custer, 
drawing  sabre. 

"  Prepare  to  mount ! "  repeated  the  company 
commanders. 

Every  trooper  turned,  put  left  boot  into  stirrup, 
and  hand  upon  mane  and  saddle,  waited. 

"Mount!" 

With  one  motion  the  blue  blouses  upheaved,  and 
were  in  the  saddle.  A  few  horses  plunged,  but  they 
were  held  in  line.  The  wagon  teamsters  were  in 
their  seats,  their  lines  taut,  their  whips  poised.  On  the 
steps  or  porches  of  all  the  officers'  quarters  women 
were  waving  and  trying  to  smile  (and  some  were 
succeeding  and  some  were  not)  ;  outside  the  post 
could  be  heard  the  commands  of  the  infantry  and 
artillery  officers. 

"  Sound  the  advance,"  bade  the  general,  curtly. 

As  Ned  did  so,  he  was  answered  by  the  bugles 
of  the  infantry,  in  similar  call. 

"  Fours  right — march !  "  The  new  band  rode 
bravely  to  the  front.  Whirling  his  horse,  the  general, 

63 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

followed  by  his  bugler,  trotted  briskly  to  take  the 
lead.  All  the  companies,  forming  fours,  fell  in  one 
behind  another,  the  swallow-tail  cavalry  guidons  of 
white  and  red  fluttering  gaily  in  the  breeze. 

The  new  band  blared  in  a  tune.  No  "  Garryowen  " 
this  time,  but  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me." 

The  hour  was  sad  I  left  the  maid, 

A  ling'ring  farewell  taking; 
Her  sighs  and  tears  my  steps  delayed — 

I  thought  her  heart  was  breaking. 
In  hurried  words  her  name  I  blessed, 

I  breathed  the  vows  that  bind  me, 
And  to  my  heart  in  anguish  pressed 

The  girl  I  left  behind  me. 

Then  to  the  east  we  bore  away, 

To  win  a  name  in   story, 
And  there,  where  dawns  the  sun  of  day, 

There  dawned  our  sun  of  glory; 
Both  blazed  in  noon  on  Alna's  height, 

When  in  the  post  assigned  me 
I  shared  the  glory  of  that  fight, 

Sweet  girl  I  left  behind  me. 

Full  many  a  name  our  banners  bore — 

It  was  a  tune  as  inspiring  as  "  Yankee  Doodle/* 
but  sweeter. 

The  expedition  made  a  great  sight.  First  rode 
a  squad  of  the  picked  scouts — Delawares  and  white 
men — headed  by  Wild  Bill  clad  in  showy  fringed 
buckskins.  Scout  "  Pony  Bill "  Cody  did  not  ac- 

64 


THE  SEVENTH  TAKES  THE  FIELD 

company.  He  was  reserved  to  guide  another  detach 
ment  to  Fort  Hays. 

After  the  line  of  scouts  came  the  commanding 
officers  and  their  staffs.  General  Hancock  was  only 
representing  the  department,  to  talk  with  the  Indians, 
but  he  frequently  dashed  up  and  down  the  march, 
inspecting.  He  and  General  Smith  made  an  active 
pair,  prompt  to  criticize. 

The  infantry,  long  Springfield  rifles  at  a  slant 
over  shoulder,  canteens  clinking  at  hips,  with  the 
artillery  and  the  pontoon  train  rumbling  behind, 
formed  one  column.  A  detachment  of  recruits  from 
Fort  Leavenworth,  to  be  distributed  among  the 
Southwest  posts,  had  joined  only  just  in  time.  They 
were  under  young  Lieutenant  John  A.  Hannay  of  the 
Third  Infantry. 

The  Seventh  Cavalry,  following  their  band, 
formed  the  other  column.  General  Custer  and  his 
adjutant,  Lieutenant  Moylan,  led;  and  close  behind 
the  general  rode  Ned,  the  orderly  bugler.  Behind 
Ned  was  the  color  guard — Sergeant  Kennedy  with 
the  great  silken  Stars  and  Stripes,  another  sergeant 
with  the  broad  blue,  yellow-fringed  standard  of  the 
Seventh  Cavalry,  and  the  two  guards  who  completed 
the  four. 

The  general  staff,  and  the  cavalry  officers  of 
course,  and  the  artillery  officers  and  most  of  the 
infantry  officers  were1  horseback;  save  old  Major 
Gibbs,  who  was  fleshy,  and  who  had  been  badly 

B  65 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

wounded  years  before  in  an  Indian  fight.  He  rode 
in  the  ambulance.  Young  Lieutenant  Hannay,  with 
his  recruits,  must  walk. 

Glancing  back  from  his  saddle  Ned  thrilled  in  his 
heart  as  he  saw  the  long  blue  columns,  with  flags 
large  and  small  floating  over,  and  the  wagon  train, 
the  white  hoods  drawn  each  by  six  mules,  filing  after. 

The  cavalry  seemed  the  least  showy,  for  all  the 
troopers  were  so  loaded  down  with  blanket  rolls, 
and  frying  pan  and  tin  cup,  and  canteen,  and  haver 
sack  stuffed  with  hardtack,  and  seven-shot  carbine, 
and  saber,  and  studded  cartridge  belt  with  butcher- 
knife  thrust  through  it,  and  revolver  holsters,  and 
lariat  and  picket  pin  slung  to  saddle,  that  really  the 
riders  looked  like  traveling  peddlers ! 

As  for  the  other  column — Odell  and  Sergeant 
Kennedy  and  such  veteran  cavalrymen  had  laughed 
among  themselves,  when  they  heard  that  Indians  were 
to  be  chased  with  artillery  and  a  pontoon  train. 


IV 

SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 


SAVE  for  the  Custer  dogs,  who  were  constantly 
chasing  rabbits  and  wolves,  with  now  and  then  an 
antelope,  the  march  west  was  not  exciting.  After  a 
time  signs  of  the  railroad  ceased,  and  there  were  only 
the  stage  stations,  with  occasional  ranches,  and  with 
one  or  two  settlements. 

Ninety  miles  along  the  Smoky  Hill  route  was 
another  Seventh  Cavalry  post,  Fort  Harker,  formerly 
named  Fort  Ellsworth.  This  was  not  much  of  a 
fort,  being  composed  of  just  a  few  bare,  sod-roofed 
log  cabins,  bravely  floating  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  Still 
further  west  were  Fort  Hays  and  Fort  Wallace  or 
Pond  Creek.  However,  increased  at  Fort  Harker 
by  two  more  troops  of  the  Seventh,  the  expedition 
turned  off  south  for  Fort  Larned,  seventy  miles  across 
country,  down  by  the  Arkansas  River  and  the  old 
Santa  Fe  Trail  into  New  Mexico.  A  wagon  road 
branched  off  for  it,  from  Harker. 

At  Fort  Harker  the  expedition  was  met  by  a  tall, 
bearded,  soldierly  man  who,  Ned  speedily  heard  as 
the  word  traveled  through  the  column,  was  Colonel 
Jesse  H.  Leavenworth,  son  of  the  older  army  man  for 

17 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

whom  Fort  Leavenworth  was  named,  and  formerly 
an  army  officer  himself. 

"  He  served  out  on  the  Colorado  plains  during  the 
war,"  at  noon  halt  explained  Sergeant  Kennedy — • 
whom  Ned  much  liked.  "  Commanded  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Rangers.  A  fine  officer,  they  say.  Now 
he's  the  agent  for  the  Comanches  and  Kiowas,  down 
at  Larned.  There's  another  army  man  and  agent, 
too,  at  the  same  place :  Major  Wyncoop.  His  Injuns 
are  Arapahos,  Cheyennes  and  'Paches.  Each  agent 
blames  t'other  one  for  damage  done." 

"  How  big  is  Fort  Larned  ?  "  queried  Ned. 

"  Well,  Larned's  a  fair  post,  but  nothing  like 
Riley,  in  size.  Lots  of  Injuns  come  in  there,  for  their 
supplies  and  to  trade  buffalo-robes.  Stages  and  emi 
grants  stop  there,  too." 

The  weather  continued  mild  and  pleasant,  and  the 
march  might  have  seemed  only  a  practice  march,  had 
it  not  been  for  the  scouts  now  riding  more  widely  in 
front  and  on  the  flanks,  examining  the  landscape.  By 
this  might  it  be  known  that  the  real  Indian  country 
had  been  reached. 

However,  no  Indians  at  all  came  near  the  marcfi. 
They  still  were  in  their  winter  villages,  awaiting  the 
signal  of  the  bursting  willow  buds  and  the  greening 
grass.  On  duty  regularly  at  headquarters  tent,  Ned 
could  not  help  but  hear  most  of  the  conversation ;  and 
he  heard  Colonel  Leavenworth  talking  with  General 
Custer. 

"  My  Indians  are  mostly  camped  down  south,  on 
68 


SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

the  Texas  border,"  was  explaining  Colonel  Leaven- 
worth.  "  It  will  be  hard  to  get  them  up  this  far, 
until  they  draw  their  rations.  Satanta  is  coming, 
though,  to  tell  you  what  he  thinks." 

"  The  red  rascal,"  accused  General  Custer, 
roundly. 

"  N-no,  he's  a  smart  Injun.  He's  quite  a  man, 
Custer,"  declared  the  colonel.  "  I  can  count  on 
Satanta,  and  he's  the  chief  of  the  Kiowas.  The 
Injuns  you  fellows  want  to  look  close  after  are  that 
crowd  of  Wyncoop's.  I  understand  Wyncoop  has 
sent  out  word  for  them  to  come  in  to  Lamed  and 
meet  you  in  a  council." 

"  Well,  we'll  hear  what  old  Satanta  has  to  say, 
and  what  the  others  have  to  say;  but  Hancock  is  out 
to  make  it  plain  that  we  have  something  to  say,  too," 
answered  General  Custer.  "We'll  smoke  the  peace- 
pipe — and  if  they  want  war  we  can  give  it  to  them 
in  any  shape,  by  horse,  foot  and  artillery.  That's  my 
understanding  of  the  situation  and  I'm  ready  to  turn 
my  Seventh  Cavalry  loose,  if  necessary.  After  a 
winter  of  drill  and  discipline  they're  in  fair  shape. 
They  need  only  one  fight,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  to 
make  a  real  regiment  of  them." 

The  terraced  plateaus  bordering  the  Smoky  Hill 
Fork  had  been  left  behind;  the  flatly  rolling  plains 
grew  sandier  and  sandier;  and,  finally,  four  days  out 
of  Fort  Harker,  on  the  seventh  of  April  was  sighted 
again  a  garrison  flag  streaming  red,  white  and  blue 
in  the  prairie  wind. 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Here,  then,  where  the  Pawnee  Fork  River  from 
the  West  emptied  into  the  Great  Bend  of  the  Ar 
kansas,  was  Fort  Larned,  guarding  its  section  of 
southwestern  Kansas,  and  the  Santa  Fe  Trail  travel 
to  Colorado  and  New  Mexico.  Rather  similar  to 
Riley  was  Fort  Larned,  being  constructed  partly  of 
stone.  It  was  the  agency  for  the  Arapahos  and 
Cheyennes  and  a  few  Apaches,  who  hunted  north  of 
it,  and  for  the  Kiowas  and  Comanches,  who  hunted 
south  of  it.  Hither  the  Indians  brought  in  thousands 
of  buffalo  robes,  to  trade  for  sugar,  coffee  and  cloth 
and  trinkets. 

It  might  be  expected  that  camped  about  Fort 
Larned  would  be  Indians;  but  there  was  not  one  tipi 
in  sight,  except  a  few  rude  tents  sheltering  some  half- 
breeds  or  squaw-men  as  they  were  called — traders  and 
hangers-on.  It  was  reported  that  up  the  Pawnee 
Fork  about  thirty  miles  was  a  winter  village  under 
Chief  Pawnee  Killer  of  the  Sioux  and  Chief  White 
Horse  of  the  Cheyennes,  but  the  march  was  not  con 
tinued  here.  When  the  troops  went  into  noon  camp 
outside  the  post,  General  Hancock  and  his  staff  were 
met  by  Agent  Wyncoop,  of  the  Arapahos,  Cheyennes 
and  Apaches. 

"  The  tribes  of  my  agency  are  peacefully  inclined," 
proclaimed  Major  Wyncoop,  hotly.  Whereas  Colonel 
Leavenworth,  standing  near,  smiled.  "  They  rarely 
have  committed  any  offences  against  the  laws,  and 
they  have  been  charged  with  crimes  perpetrated  by 

70 


SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

other  tribes.  They  have  suffered  heavily  because  of 
the  Kiowas  in  particular,  who  are  the  most  turbulent 
Indians  on  the  plains  and  deserve  punishment  more 
than  any  others.  I  have  sent  runners  to  the  various 
villages,  as  requested,  and  the  chiefs  have  returned 
word  that  they  will  be  in  for  a  council  on  April  10. 
If  the  commanding  general  will  wait  until  then,  which 
is  only  three  days,  I  am  sure  that  everything  will  be 
adjusted  satisfactorily." 

"  We  will  wait,"  remarked  General  Hancock, 
tersely.  "  Colonel  Leavenworth,  have  you  anything 
that  you  desire  to  say?" 

"  Nothing  more  than  I  have  already  said,  sir," 
answered  Colonel  Leavenworth.  "  I  can  only  repeat 
that  in  my  opinion  the  Kiowas  and  Comanches  are  the 
ones  who  have  been  wronged — grossly  wronged  by 
having  had  laid  at  their  doors  numerous  misdeeds 
for  which  the  other  tribes  of  this  district  are  re 
sponsible  and  for  which  they  should  be  severely 
chastised.  Here !  "  he  added.  "  Here's  Satanta  him 
self.  He'll  speak  for  the  Kiowas." 

From  down  the  Santa  Fe  trail  were  approaching 
at  a  gallop  a  small  party  of  Indians,  their  blankets  and 
head-dresses  tossing  in  the  clear  air.  Foremost  rode 
a  man  who  might  have  been  a  soldier,  for  he  wore 
a  shirt  and  a  sabre ;  but  feathers  in  his  hair  announced 
the  Indian.  Diverging  from  the  trail,  to  cross  the 
level  sandy  sod,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  gather 
ing  he  dismounted,  on  the  edge  of  camp,  and  leaving 

71 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

his  horse  (a  superb  bay,  gaily  decorated  with  paint 
and  trappings),  accompanied  by  the  other  Indians, 
also  dismounted,  he  advanced  on  foot. 

"  Satanta !  "  ran  a  murmur ;  and  officers  and  men 
stared  openly. 

Ned,  as  well  as  everybody  else  in  the  West,  knew 
of  Satanta,  the  celebrated  war  chief  of  the  fighting 
Kiowas;  leader  in  many  a  raid,  and  crafty  and  elo 
quent.  Of  medium  height,  but  burly  and  muscular, 
he  bore  himself  proudly.  His  black  hair,  stained 
vermillion  at  the  parting,  was  combed  smoothly  down 
upon  either  side  of  a  rather  good-natured  face.  At 
the  left  it  lengthened  into  a  braid  but  at  the  right  it 
was  clipped  short — the  sign  of  the  Kiowa.  An  eagle 
feather  was  stuck  through,  above  the  braid.  His  eyes 
were  shrewd  and  twinkling,  his  forehead  was  broad 
and  high,  and  under  a  broad  straight  nose  was  set  a 
thin-lipped,  straight  mouth.  From  his  chin  grew  a 
few  bristles,  but  the  majority  evidently  had  been 
plucked  out.  All  in  all,  he  had  an  intelligent  face, 
with  a  humorous  touch  to  it. 

As  he  strode,  with  his  powerful  frame  and  heavy 
body  he  made  a  fine  figure.  His  sabre  clanked  against 
his  bare  legs,  to  his  satisfaction,  and  upon  the  bosom 
of  his  stained  cotton  shirt  he  wore  a  dangling  silver 
pendant. 

"Satanta!    Satanta!" 

"  How?  "  grunted  Satanta,  as  the  circle  opened  to 
greet  him.  He  shook  hands  all  around;  and  with 

72 


SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

sundry  "  Hows  ?  "  his  companions  also  shook  hands. 

The  Indians  stolidly  seated  themselves;  so  did 
the  officers.  From  one  of  his  followers  Satanta  ac 
cepted,  in  princely  fashion,  a  long-stemmed  pipe.  It 
had  been  filled,  and  now  with  flint  and  steel  it  was 
lighted,  and  starting  with  Satanta  was  passed  about. 
Everybody  in  turn  solemnly  took  a  puff.  General 
Custer  almost  choked,  for  he  did  not  use  tobacco. 

"  Let  one  of  the  scouts  interpret,"  bade  General 
Hancock. 

"  Romeo,"  bade  General  Custer. 

"  Tell  him  that  we're  ready  to  hear  what  he  has 
to  say,"  instructed  General  Hancock,  to  Romeo  the 
little  Mexican. 

Romeo  spoke  a  guttural  sentence  to  the  chief; 
Satanta  grunted  shortly. 

"  He  wants  presents,"  translated  Romeo. 

"  Presents  will  be  brought,"  answered  the  general. 

The  preliminaries  having  been  concluded,  Satanta 
majestically  arose,  for  his  speech.  With  shoulders 
back  he  stood,  facing  the  half  circle  of  white  men, 
his  arms  folded.  He  began  to  speak.  As  he  pro 
ceeded,  Romeo  the  Mexican  translated  sentence  by 
sentence,  the  chief  each  time  waiting  for  him  to  do  so. 

"  I  call  on  the  sun  to  witness  that  I  will  talk 
straight,"  said  Satanta.  "  My  tongue  is  not  forked. 
It  cannot  tell  lies.  I  understand  that  you  were  coming 
down  to  see  us.  My  heart  is  glad  and  I  shall  hide 
nothing  from  you.  I  have  moved  away  from  those 

73 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTEB 

Indians  who  want  war,  and  I  have  come  also  to  see 
you  and  speak  with  you.  The  Kiowas  and  the 
Comanches  are  not  those  who  have  been  fighting. 
The  Cheyennes  are  the  ones  who  fight.  They  fight 
in  the  day,  and  not  in  the  night.  If  I  had  been  fight 
ing,  I  would  have  fought  by  day,  too.  Two  years  ago 
I  made  peace  with  your  chiefs,  Harney,  Sanborn  and 
Leavenworth,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Little  Arkansas. 
This  peace  I  have  never  broken.  I  have  not  done  any 
thing  and  I  am  not  afraid.  I  am  ready  to  listen  to 
good  words.  We  have  been  waiting  a  long  time  to 
see  you,  and  we  were  getting  tired.  All  the  land  south 
of  the  Arkansas  belongs  to  the  Kiowas  and  Comanches, 
and  I  don't  want  to  give  any  of  it  away.  I  love  the 
land  and  the  buffalo,  and  will  not  part  with  it.  When 
your  soldiers  come  through  the  land,  they  kill  many 
buffalo  and  let  them  lie.  Is  the  white  man  a  child, 
that  he  should  recklessly  kill  and  not  eat?  When  the 
red  men  kill  game,  they  do  so  that  they  may  live  and 
not  starve.  I  want  you  to  understand  well  what  I  say. 
Put  it  on  paper.  Let  the  Great  Father  at  Washing 
ton  see  it,  and  let  me  know  what  he  says.  I  hear  a 
great  deal  of  good  talk  from  the  teachers  that  the 
Great  Father  sends  to  us,  but  they  never  do  what  they 
say  they  will  do.  I  don't  want  any  of  the  medicine 
lodges  (schools  and  churches)  in  my  country.  I  want 
my  children  raised  as  I  was.  We  thank  you  for  your 
presents.  We  know  you  are  doing  the  best  you  can. 
I  and  my  head  men  also  will  do  the  best  we  can.  [You 

74 


SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

are  all  big  chiefs.  When  you  are  in  the  country  we  go 
to  sleep  happy  and  are  not  afraid.  I  have  heard  that 
.you  intend  to  settle  us  on  a  reservation.  I  don't  want 
to  settle,"  and  Satanta's  voice  was  high.  "  I  love  to 
roam  the  prairies.  There  I  feel  free  and  happy,  but 
when  we  settle  down  we  grow  pale  and  die.  I  have 
laid  aside  my  lance  and  shield  and  bow,  because  I 
feel  safe  in  your  presence.  I  have  told  you  the  truth. 
I  have  no  little  lies  hid  about  me,  but  I  don't  know 
how  it  is  with  you.  Are  you  as  clear  as  I  am  ?  A  long 
time  ago  all  this  land  belonged  to  our  fathers.  Now 
when  I  go  beside  the  river  I  see  camps  of  soldiers  on 
its  banks.  These  soldiers  cut  down  my  timber;  they 
kill  my  buffalo;  and  when  I  see  that,  my  heart  feels 
like  bursting.  As  I  came  here  to-day,  upon  the  trail 
I  picked  up  a  little  switch  that  had  been  torn  up  and 
thrown  away.  It  hurt  me  to  see  this.  I  thought,  if 
this  little  twig  had  been  allowed  to  grow,  it  would 
have  made  a  mighty  tree,  to  shelter  my  people  and 
supply  them  with  shade  and  wood.  The  white  men 
destroyed  it."  Satanta  here  made  a  wide  gesture. 
"  But  as  I  look  around  over  the  prairie  I  see  that  it 
is  large  and  good,  and  I  do  not  want  it  stained  with 
the  blood  of  the  whites.  If  the  treaty  brings  to  us 
prosperity,  as  you  say,  we  will  like  it  all  the  better. 
But  if  it  brings  us  good  or  ill,  we  will  not  abandon 
it.  When  I  make  a  peace,  it  is  a  long  and  lasting 
peace.  I  have  spoken." 

When  Satanta  had  finished,  a.  murmur  of  approval, 

75 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

in  satisfied  grunts,  arose  from  the  other  Indians;  and 
even  the  officers  exchanged  words  of  admiration. 
Satanta  had  made  a  great  speech. 

"  Tell  him,"  quoth  General  Hancock,  to  Romeo, 
"  that  we  have  heard,  and  are  glad  to  know  that  he  is 
our  friend.  We  do  not  come  in  war,  but  in  peace.  Tell 
him  that  in  token  of  our  friendship  we  give  him  the 
uniform  of  a  great  white  chief." 

At  a  sign  by  the  general  another  officer  brought 
forward,  to  Satanta,  the  coat  and  sash  and  hat  of  a 
major-general.  They  were  of  a  style  that  had  been 
changed  by  later  regulations  but  this  made  no  differ 
ence  to  Satanta,  who  seemed  much  pleased  with  the 
epaulets  and  the  double  row  of  brass  buttons,  and  the 
red  silk  sash,  and  the  cocked  hat  adorned  by  a  black 
curling  plume.  He  immediately  donned  the  new  rig, 
to  strut  about,  bare-legged,  in  it,  dragging  his  sabre. 

Presently  he  and  all  his  braves,  after  procuring 
what  they  could  at  the  fort,  took  the  trail  whence  they 
had  come. 

"  That,  gentlemen,  was  a  marvelous  speech.  It 
would  be  a  credit  to  a  white  man,"  commented  General 
Hancock,  impressively,  to  the  assembled  audience. 

"  I've  known  Satanta  or  White  Bear  ever  since 
I  was  a  small  boy  and  followed  my  father  about,  out 
here  on  the  plains,"  said  Colonel  Leavenworth.  "  I 
regard  him  as  the  greatest  Indian.  He  lives  in  style 
at  his  tipi.  Has  a  brass  horn  that  he  blows  for  meals, 
and  a  carpet,  and  brass-studded  lapboards  to  eat  from." 

76 


SATANTA  MAKES  A  SPEECH 

"  In  my  opinion  Satanta  is  a  rascal,  gentlemen," 
spoke  quietly  Wild  Bill.  "  Nobody  can  deny  that  he 
makes  a  big  talk;  but  deeds  count,  in  this  country — 
and  if  that  fellow  doesn't  make  more  trouble,  at  his 
first  chance,  I  don't  know  Injuns.  He's  smart,  and 
he's  crooked  as  a  prairie  dog  burrow." 

Ned  kept  his  eyes  open  for  the  figure  of  Pawnee 
Killer.  He  hoped  that  Pawnee  Killer  would  visit, 
from  the  village,  and  might  be  made  to  tell  General 
Hancock  or  General  Custer  where  his,  Ned's,  sister 
was. 

"  No  Injuns  will  come  in  till  the  tenth,"  asserted 
Sergeant  Kennedy.  "  'Tisn't  Injun  etiquette  to 
appear  before  the  date  of  the  council." 

"  The  infarnal  rascals  may  not  come  anyhow,"  de 
clared  California  Joe,  wagging  his  head.  "  They're 
the  onsartinest  liars  that  ever  was  created.  But  we're 
goin'  to  have  our  hands  full  without  'em,  for  some 
sort  of  a  pesky  storm  is  breedin'.  Do  ye  mark  how 
geese  are  flyin'  south,  'stead  o'  north?  Mebbe  they 
think  it's  fall  'stead  o'  spring ;  but  I  never  ketched  wild 
honkers  bein'  mistook  on  dates." 

The  day  was  warm  and  sunny — almost  too  warm. 
The  evening  stayed  clear,  while  the  camp  peacefully 
slept,  but  the  morning  dawned  with  a  haze  and  a 
chill  wind  from  the  north.  Speedily  the  haze  thick 
ened,  the  wind!  grew  colder;  and  before  breakfast 
was  over  the  snow  was  sifting  faster  and  faster. 

It  was  a  big  storm  for  the  ninth  of  April.    All 

77 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

day  the  flakes  fell  furiously,  while  the  cold  increased. 
By  night  the  snow  was  eight  inches  deep.  Long 
before  night  the  officers  and  men  had  piled  on  all  the 
extra  clothes  that  they  could  find,  and  were  huddled 
about  wrapped  in  overcoats  and  blankets,  handker 
chiefs  bent  over  their  ears.  California  Joe  made  a 
comical  figure,  his  wide-brimmed  sombrero  tied  down 
with  a  rope  into  a  coal-scuttle  shape,  so  that  its  brim 
on  either  side  touched  his  shoulders.  Around  his  neck 
was  a  red  tippet  that  looked  as  if  it  once  might  have 
encircled  an  Indian's  waist.  The  tail  of  his  cavalry 
overcoat  was  singed  by  camp-fires.  On  his  feet  were 
gunny-sacks  wrapped  tightly  about,  to  make  a  bundle, 
and  his  hands  were  deeply  buried  in  his  overcoat, 
pockets  while  under  the  scoop  of  his  hat  issued 
volumes  of  smoke  from  his  black  pipe. 

He  looked  funny,  did  California  Joe;  but  not  all 
things  were  funny.  Of  course,  there  were  no  tents 
or  fires  for  the  horses.  They  were  tied  along  a  picket 
rope  stretched  from  stake  to  stake;  and  here  they 
turned  tail  to  the  cutting  wind  and  shivered  and 
shrank,  as  the  snow  piled  upon  their  backs.  Yes,  and 
undoubtedly  they  would  have  perished,  if  General 
Custer  had  not  ordered  that  they  be  given  double 
rations  of  oats,  and  that  the  guards  pass  up  and  down, 
up  and  down,  during  the  night,  whipping  them  to 
make  them  move.  Twice  Ned  stole  away  to  inspect 
Buckie ;  and  found  him  doing  as  well  as  possible. 


V 
IN  BATTLE  ARRAY 


WITH  stiff  lips  Ned  at  sunrise  time  blew  first  call 
for  a  cavalry  camp  pretty  well  frozen  up;  and  the 
cheery  notes  of  reveille  failed  to  awaken  much 
enthusiasm  among  the  soldiers.  At  assembly  for  roll- 
call  the  men  fell  in  wrapped  to  their  noses,  their  over 
coat-collars  turned  high  and  clothes  tied  down  over 
their  ears. 

However,  the  snow  had  ceased,  the  sun  was  peep 
ing  out,  and  evidently  the  storm  had  passed.  Now  the 
April  sun  would  soon  lay  bare  the  plains. 

General  Custer  had  not  seemed  to  mind  the  storm ; 
and  out  of  it  had  gained  some  fun,  as  usual.  Ned 
heard  him  telling  a  joke,  with  great  peals  of  laughter, 
to  his  brother  Colonel  Tom  Custer  and  several  other 
officers. 

"  Ha-ha-ha ! "  How  they  all  roared  and  chuckled, 
none  more  loudly  than  the  general  himself. 

Nobody  expected  that  the  Indians  would  come  in 
to-day,  which  was  the  tenth,  for  the  snow  and  the  cold 
would  keep  them  housed.  Two  soldiers  rode  away 

78 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

with  a  dispatch-bag  crammed  with  letters  from  officers 
and  men,  for  Riley  and  the  East;  and  the  general's 
letter  to  Mrs.  Custer,  which  Ned  delivered  at  the  very 
last  moment,  must  have  been  the  fattest  of  all.  No 
dispatch  bearer  went  from  march  or  camp  without, 
as  appeared,  a  letter  from  the  general  for  Mrs.  Custer. 
He  kept  a  regular  diary. 

The  sun  shone,  but  the  weather  remained  biting 
cold.  However,  it  was  thought  that  the  Indians  would 
come  in  on  the  morrow,  which  was  the  eleventh.  In 
the  morning  Pawnee  Killer  sent  word  that  he  had 
started  with  his  people  for  the  fort,  when  they  had 
discovered  a  large  herd  of  buffalo ;  so  they  had  stopped 
to  get  meat. 

This  excuse  did  not  please  General  Hancock  or 
any  of  the  officers;  and  even  Major  Wyncoop  was 
hard  put  to  explain  why  buffalo  should  be  more  im 
portant  than  a  council  engagement. 

"  They  don't  mean  to  come  in,  gentlemen,"  de 
clared  Wild  Bill,  to  General  Hancock  and  Custer  and 
others.  "  They're  playing  for  time ;  that's  all.  The 
first  thing  you  know,  they'll  have  cleared  out.  It's  no 
part  of  their  intentions  to  hold  any  sort  of  a  pow-wow. 
This  snow'll  fetch  along  the  grass;  and  after  that, 
look  out ! " 

"  If  they  'don't  come  to  us,  we'll  go  to  them," 
announced  General  Hancock.  "  We'll  give  them 
twenty-four  hours  more  to  keep  their  promise." 

80 


IN  BATTLE  ARRAY 

The  general  was  as  good  as  his  word.  On  the 
evening  of  the  next  day  orders  went  forth  through 
the  camp  to  prepare  for  an  early  march  on  the  follow 
ing  morning. 

This  evening  several  Dog  Soldier  chiefs,  led  by 
Tall  Bull,  a  Cheyenne,  did  come  riding  in,  out  of  the 
sunset  glow,  for  supper  and  the  little  Cheyenne  boy. 
A  young  man  named  Edmond  Guerrier  acted  as  inter 
preter.  His  father  had  been  a  French-Canadian 
trapper  at  old  Fort  Laramie  on  the  Platte,  and  his 
mother  had  been  a  Cheyenne  woman.  Like  his  father, 
he  had  married  a  Cheyenne,  and  he  lived  with  the 
Cheyennes  whenever  he  wished  to.  The  commander 
at  Fort  Larned  and  Major  Wyncoop  recommended 
him  as  a  first  class  interpreter. 

The  talk  did  not  amount  to  anything,  because  the 
chiefs  said  nothing  of  importance.  But  they  spent 
the  night  as  guests  of  General  Hancock,  in  a  tent  put 
up  for  them. 

Early  in  the  morning  the  visiting  chiefs  left,  tak 
ing  with  them  the  little  Cheyenne  boy,  who  hung  back 
and  whimpered. 

"  He's  white,  now,"  commented  Wild  Bill,  watch 
ing.  "  In  a  month  he'll  be  red,  and  in  six  Cheyenne'll 
be  the  only  tongue  he  knows." 

"  Fust  thing  they'll  do'll  be  to  peel  those  store 
clothes  off'n  him,  an'  put  him  into  blanket  an'  leggins," 
spoke  California  Joe.  "  Tomorrer  you  wouldn't 
recognize  him." 

6  81 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Now  all  was  ready  for  the  march  onward  to  the 
village.  Soon  after  the  Indians  had  left  the  clear 
notes  of  the  "  General "  rang  from  bugles  of  cavalry, 
infantry  and  artillery.  Down,  in  a  twinkling,  fell  flat 
every  tent.  The  canvas  was  quickly  roped  into  square 
packs,  and  passed  into  the  wagons.  Speedily  ranks 
were  formed,  the  cavalry  mounted,  and  on  up  Pawnee 
Fork  of  the  Arkansas,  from  Fort  Larned  marched  the 
troops. 

The  route  followed  the  river,  which,  willow  and 
alder  bordered,  wound  crookedly.  The  scouts  rode 
ahead  and  on  either  side — Fall  Leaf  and  his  braves 
being  especially  vigilant,  for  all  the  Western  Indians 
were  their  enemies. 

Moving  figures  were  sighted,  before.  They  were 
Indians,  but  they  kept  out  of  hailing  distance.  A 
great  smoke  arose,  which  according  to  some  opinions 
in  the  column  was  caused  by  the  Indians  burning  the 
buffalo-grass  so  that  there  would  be  no  forage  for  the 
expedition.  Then,  toward  evening,  when  the  Indian 
village  was  yet  ten  miles  distant,  down  from  above 
came  galloping  another  party  of  chiefs  and  warriors. 

They  were  escorted  in  by  Wild  Bill,  and  were 
introduced  to  General  Hancock.  Pressing  their 
horses  to  the  horses  of  the  white  men,  they  shook 
hands. 

"  There's  Pawnee  Killer ! "  exclaimed  Ned,  ex 
cited  as  he  peered.  "  See  him?  The  man  with  the 
yellow  shield,  on  the  spotted  horse." 

92 


IN  BATTLE  ARRAY 

General  Custer  heard  the  words,  and  reined  back 
a  moment. 

"  The  scouts  all  say  that  he  won't  tell  you  any 
thing  about  your  sister,"  warned  the  general.  "  It's 
very  likely  he  doesn't  know.  But  we'll  find  her. 
Maybe  not  this  week,  or  next,  but  sometime ;  we're  on 
the  right  track  to  do  so." 

"  Yes,  sir,"   answered  Ned,   earnestly. 

The  chiefs'  party  had  turned  and  were  riding  along 
with  the  commanding  officer's  staff;  their  painted 
ponies  pranced  nimbly;  blankets  and  fringes  shook  in 
the  breeze. 

Night  was  falling,  the  march  had  covered  twenty- 
one  long  miles,  and  the  infantry  soldiers  were  well 
weary.  So  within  nine  miles  of  the  Indian  village 
the  column  went  into  camp,  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Pawnee  Fork. 

Not  till  then  did  Ned  have  opportunity  to  get  near 
'Pawnee  Killer.  He  was  not  afraid  of  the  chief,  now; 
for  did  he  not  carry  a  six-shooter  revolver  and  wear 
a  sabre,  and  besides,  was  he  not  a  soldier,  in  the  uni 
form  of  the  United  States  army?  However,  he  felt 
sure  that  Pawnee  Killer  would  recognize  him.  And 
at  last,  in  the  dusk,  as  Pawnee  Killer,  blanket  wrapped, 
was  stalking  by,  Ned  hailed  him,  in  Sioux,  with  a 
short : 

"How,  kola?"     (Hello,  friend?) 

Pawnee  Killer  halted,  glanced  aside. 

"How?  "he  said. 

83 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTEB 

"You  know  me,  Pawnee  Killer?" 

"No;"  and  Pawnee  Killer  would  pass  on. 

"  Wait.     Where's  my  sister?  " 

Pawnee  Killer  impatiently  shook  his  head.  Not 
a  muscle  of  his  dark  face  changed.  How  Ned  hated 
him,  at  that  moment:  hated  him,  for  the  wrongs  re 
ceived — for  memory  of  slain  father  and  mother,  and 
hard  camp  life  of  himself  and  his  sister.  He  scarcely 
could  keep  his  fingers  off  his  revolver,  could  young 
Ned,  standing  there  returning  glare  for  glare. 

"  Heap  fool.  White  boy  heap  fool,"  grunted 
Pawnee  Killer,  contemptuously,  and  drawing  closer 
about  him  his  blanket,  he  stalked  on.  Ned  sprang  a 
step  after  him;  then  stopped  short.  He  must  not  be 
hasty.  He  must  wait.  General  Custer  had  promised 
him,  and  he,  Ned,  was  only  one  victim  among  many. 
Yes,  he  would  wait,  and  depend  upon  the  general. 

Before  taps  it  was  understood  throughout  the 
camp  (for  gossip  traveled  fast,  especially  when  Cali 
fornia  Joe  was  about  to  carry  news  among  the  fires) 
that  Pawnee  Killer  and  White  Horse  were  to  spend 
the  night  as  guests  of  General  Hancock;  and  that  in 
the  morning  all  the  chiefs  of  the  village  should 
assemble  in  the  camp  for  the  council.  Therefore  early 
in  the  morning — but  not  until  after  he  had  heartily 
breakfasted — Pawnee  Killer  rode  out,  to  bring,  he 
said,  the  other  chiefs. 

The  camp  waited. 

84 


IN  BATTLE  ARRAY 

Nine  o'clock,  or  when  the  sun  was  three  hours 
high,  was  the  hour  set  for  the  council.  Nine  o'clock 
came  and  passed,  but  Pawnee  Killer  and  the  other 
chiefs  did  not  come.  Then  it  was  that  a  new  chief 
arrived,  riding  briskly  in  from  the  direction  of  the 
village.  Bull  Bear  was  his  name,  according  to  Cali 
fornia  Joe ;  a  Cheyenne. 

Met  by  Wild  Bill,  he  was  conducted  straight  to 
General  Hancock's  headquarters,  and  another  of  the 
many  talks  was  held.  California  Joe,  loafing  near 
the  Custer  tent,  where  stood  on  duty  Ned  the  orderly 
bugler  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  laughed  in  his  shaggy 
whiskers. 

'  Those  thar  Injuns  never  mean  to  meet  the 
soldiers  in  ary  council  whatsomever,"  he  asserted. 
"  Fust  thing  we  know,  they'll  all  be  gone,  skedaddled. 
An*  I'll  bet  my  ol'  mule  agin  a  pound  o'  baccy  that  the 
women  an'  children  are  leavin'  already.  If  we  want 
to  ketch  that  village,  we  got  to  get  thar  mighty  quick." 

Evidently  this  was  General  Hancock's  opinion.  He 
had  been  trifled  with  long  enough.  Bull  Bear,  with  a 
stolid  but  well-fed  expression,  rode  away  as  had 
Pawnee  Killer  and  other  chiefs.  And  presently 
General  Custer,  striding  quickly  back  from  the  con 
ference,  bade,  in  satisfied  tone,  to  Adjutant  Moylan: 
"  We're  off.  Strike  the  tents." 

The  infantry  bugles  were  ringing  the  "  General," 
and  Ned  hastened  to  join  for  the  cavalry.  Down  came 

85 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

the  tents.  And  with  "  Boots  and  Saddles  "  and  "  To 
Horse "  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  prepared  for  the 
march  or  for  battle. 

Again  the  expedition  was  put  in  motion,  and  went 
clanking  and  creaking  and  rumbling  across  country, 
ascending  along  the  Pawnee  Fork  as  if  this  time 
bound  right  through  to  the  village. 

Now  the  formation  indicated  that  General  Han 
cock,  likewise,  was  prepared  for  peace  or  war.  The 
infantry  took  the  advance,  with  the  artillery  and 
engineers  close  behind,  the  river  protecting  the  left 
flank,  and  the  cavalry  protecting  the  right.  The  scouts 
rode  ahead,  for  they  were  the  eyes  of  the  column. 
And  well  did  the  doughty  General  Hancock  use  cau 
tion;  when  only  a  few  miles  had  been  covered,  back 
came  galloping  Wild  Bill,  with  hand  high,  as  signal 
to  halt.  At  the  same  moment,  almost,  rounding  a 
turn  in  the  route  the  heads  of  the  columns  emerged 
into  a  wondrous,  startling  sight. 

The  vista  opened  out,  with  never  a  tree  or  a  shrub 
to  break  it,  until  it  was  cut  sharp  by  a  motionless 
battle-line.  There  they  sat,  upon  their  ponies,  bay, 
black,  white,  and  spotted — half  a  thousand  Indian 
warriors,  all  panoplied  for  fight.  Shields  shone 
white,  yellow,  and  red;  lances  floated  crimson  tufts; 
great  war-bonnets  of  feather  crests  brightly  tinted 
almost  covered  the  riders;  war-paint  streaked  face 
and  body  and  pony;  and  the  glitter  of  rifle  and  re- 

86 


IN  BATTLE  ARRAY 

volver  showed  that  the  array  was  armed  like  the  white 
men. 

Midway  between  the  two  parties  were  the  scouts, 
in  extended  order.  The  Delawares  had  dropped  their 
blankets  from  their  shoulders  and  naked  to  the  waist 
they  sat  alert  and  restless,  eager  to  fight.  Fall  Leaf 
held  aloft  his  rifle  and  shook  it  tauntingly. 

Up  and  down  the  line  of  mounted  warriors  were 
riding  the  war  chiefs  gesturing  and  talking,  as  if  keep 
ing  their  men  in  order.  But  General  Hancock  had 
not  been  idle.  Instantly  his  aides  had  spurred  to  right 
and  to  left,  bearing  his  commands.  The  infantry  and 
artillery  bugles  pealed  shrill;  and  on  came  the  aide  to 
instruct  the  cavalry.  Pulling  his  yellow  moustache, 
General  Custer  waited  impatiently. 

Arriving,  the  aide  (he  was  a  young  lieutenant) 
reined  his  horse  to  its  haunches,  and  saluted. 

"  The  commanding  general  sends  his  compliments, 
sir,  and  directs  that  the  cavalry  form  line  of  battle  on 
the  right." 

"  Troops  right  front  into  line.  Two  troops  in 
reserve,"  spoke  the  general,  instantly,  to  his  adjutant, 
Lieutenant  Moylan;  and  he  nodded  at  Ned  to  blow 
the  call.  His  blue  eyes  were  flaming;  he  looked  happy. 
Away  spurred  Lieutenant  Moylan,  down  the  column 
of  fours,  bearing  the  orders.  Bugle  after  bugle  took 
up  the  strain.  Out  to  right  trotted  the  fours,  extend 
ing  the  cavalry  front,  by  troop  after  troop,  until  six 

87 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

were  on  the  line.  Two  composed  a  second  line,  as  a 
reserve. 

The  infantry  also  had  double-quicked  into  com 
pany  front,  and  company  after  company  had  come 
upon  the  battle  line.  Into  the  center  had  wheeled  at  a 
gallop  the  artillery,  and  had  unlimbered. 

"  Companies — load !  " 

With  rattle  and  thud  the  long  Springfield  breech 
loaders  remodeled  from  the  muzzle-loaders  of  the 
.Civil  War  came  to  a  "load,"  and  prepared  for  the 
"  aim,  fire." 

"  Draw — sabres !  "   The  general's  voice  rang  high. 

With  rasp  of  steel  six  hundred  sabres  flashed  in 
the  morning  sun. 


VI 

THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 


RECALLED  by  one  of  the  aides,  the  scouts  had 
slowly  ridden  back,  the  Delawares  especially  being 
reluctant  to  leave  the  fore.  As  they  passed,  General 
Custer  called  out,  to  Wild  Bill : 

"Is  it  a  fight,  Bill?" 

"  Looks  peculiar,"  answered  Wild  Bill,  jogging 
on.  He  was  not  a  man  of  many  words.  But  Cali 
fornia  Joe  neglected  no  opportunity  to  talk,  and 
obligingly  pausing,  in  front  of  the  cavalry,  from  his 
mule  he  took  up  the  conversation. 

"  If  we  do  fight  it  's  goin'  to  be  the  gol-durndest 
fracas  ever  you  got  into.  Those  Injuns  seem  to  think 
they  can  whip  the  hull  Yewnited  States  army.  An 
Injun'll  beat  a  white  man  runnin',  every  time,  so  I 
'spect  our  best  holt  is  fittin' ;  but  marcy  on  us,  look  at 
'em!  Thar  ain't  'nough  of  us  to  go  half  round.  It's 
a  big  thing,  I  tell  'ee,  an'  if  we  lick  those  varmints 
we  got  to  get  up  an'  dust.  Mebbe  it  won't  be  fittin' ; 
mebbe  it'll  be  jest  wipin'  'em  out.  But  they  got  a 
powerful  lot  o'  weepons,  furnished  'em  by  the  Injun 
department  to  kill  soldiers  with.  See  tho^e  rifles,  will 

89 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

ye?  They'll  outshoot  these  hyar  sawed-off  carbines 
o'  yourn.  Well,  reckon  I'll  jine  the  infantry,"  and 
still  maundering  on  California  Joe  leisurely  rode 
through  an  interval,  and  posted  himself  elsewhere. 
His  voice,  amiably  addressing  all  around  him,  never 
ceased ;  but  nobody  longer  paid  attention  to  him.  The 
crisis  was  too  acute,  when  two  such  lines,  of  the  red 
and  of  the  white,  in  battle  array  faced  one  another. 

The  plains  back  of  the  Indians'  line  was  dotted 
with  more  Indians,  in  bunches,  like  reserves,  and  in 
little  squads,  as  if  for  courier  duty.  The  chiefs  had 
faced  about,  watchful  of  the  soldiers'  line;  and  for  a 
moment  intense  silence  reigned.  Each  line  eyed  the 
other,  waiting  for  the  first  movement. 

General  Hancock,  accompanied  by  Guerrier  the 
interpreter,  and  Wild  Bill  the  chief  of  scouts,  and  by 
several  officers  of  his  staff,  boldly  rode  forward,  halt 
ing  when  midway.  Guerrier  called  with  a  loud  voice, 
in  Cheyenne,  and  made  sign,  for  a  conference.  There 
upon  out  from  the  ranks  of  the  Indians  rode  a  party 
of  chiefs,  holding  aloft,  on  a  lance  butt,  a  white  rag. 
At  a  signal  from  General  Hancock,  and  the  start  of 
an  aide,  General  Custer  advanced  to  take  part  in  the 
interview. 

California  Joe,  poking  forward  again,  coolly  took 
his  place  before  the  cavalry  line,  and  proceeded  to 
talk,  as  usual. 

"  Now  thar'll  be  more  palaver,"  he  announced,  to 
all  hearers,  "  an'  meanwhile  the  village  is  packm*  up 

90 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

an'  skadoodlin'.  Know  those  'er  chiefs?  The  big 
feller  with  the  flag  o'  truce  is  Roman  Nose,  Cheyenne 
— an'  he  ain't  no  slouch,  boys,  either.  T'others  o' 
the  Cheyennes  are  Bull  Bear,  White  Horse,  Gray 
Beard  an'  Medicine  Wolf;  rest  are  Sioux,  bein'  that 
rascal  Pawnee  Killer,  Bad  Wound,  Left  Hand,  Little 
Bear,  Little  Bull,  an'  Tall  Bear  That  Walks  Under 
the  Ground.  Shakin'  hands,  are  they?  Wall,  reckon 
we  don't  fight  to-day.  Mebbe  next  time.  Guess  I'll 
go  see.  Giddap !  "  And  away  cantered  California  Joe, 
backward  in  nothing,  to  overhear  the  conference. 

The  talk  appeared  to  be  satisfactory,  for  presently 
the  chiefs  returned  to  their  line,  and  the  staff 
officers  dispersed  upon  various  errands.  General 
Custer  rejoined  his  command.  The  Indian  line  had 
wheeled  about,  and  was  riding  away  in  a  jostling, 
disorderly  mass.  The  first  orders  issued  up  and  down 
the  battle  front  of  the  whites  indicated  that  the  march 
was  to  be  resumed. 

Now  in  column  again,  the  expedition  followed  the 
warriors. 

General  Hancock  seemed  tired  of  the  delays.  No 
halt  was  made,  little  was  said  (except  by  California 
Joe,  who  ambled  along  as  he  pleased,  discoursing  right 
and  left,  and  to  himself)  ;  the  scouts,  in  compact  body, 
and  the  general  and  staff,  led;  the  troops  plodded 
behind;  and  at  last,  toward  sunset,  in  a  curve  of  the 
stream,  before,  appeared  the  crossed  poles  of  many 
white  lodges,  welling  evening  smoke. 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Thar's  yore  village,"  yelled  California  Joe,  to 
the  cavalry  which  he  evidently  had  adopted.  "  Three 
hundred  lodges,  half  Cheyenne,  half  Sioux.  Fine 
place,  too,  ain't  it?  Plenty  wood  an'  water  an'  grass, 
an'  those  thar  bluffs  on  north  an'  west  to  fend  off  the 
wind.  Trust  an  Injun  to  make  a  good  camp." 

An  aide  came  galloping  to  General  Custer. 

"  The  compliments  of  the  commanding  general, 
sir,  and  he  directs  that  the  cavalry  go  into  camp  on 
the  right,  half  a  mile  before  reaching  the  village. 
Guards  will  be  posted  to  prevent  any  communication 
between  the  soldiers  and  the  village.  It  is  the  general's 
desire  that  the  Indians  shall  not  be  annoyed  by 
visitors." 

"  Huh!  "  grunted  California  Joe.  "  Now,  if  that 
ain't  the  most  cott-siderate  gen'ral  I  ever  see.  Mustn't 
annoy  the  pore  Injun,  hey?  Wall,  I'll  be  horn- 
swoggled ! " 

Little  occurred,  in  camp,  during  the  evening,  ex 
cept  that  Roman  Nose  (who  indeed  was  a  fine-looking 
Indian,  tall  and  powerful,  broad-chested,  and  beak- 
nosed),  Grey  Bear  and  Medicine  Wolf  of  the  Chey- 
ennes  came  in,  and  soon  two  of  them  left,  mounted 
on  cavalry  horses.  From  the  conversation  between  the 
general  and  Lieutenant  Moylan,  Ned  learned  that  the 
squaws  and  children  had  run  from  the  village,  because 
they  feared  so  many  white  soldiers ;  or,  at  least,  thus 
had  claimed  the  chiefs ;  and  now  two  of  the  chiefs  had 
been  sent  to  overtake  them  and  bring  them  back. 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

The  night  settled  crisp  and  dark,  with  the  moon 
hidden  by  drifting  clouds.  Not  a  sound  issued  from 
the  direction  of  the  Indian  village,  where  dimly 
gleamed  the  white  skin  lodges  of  the  Cheyennes  and 
the  Sioux.  Ned  blew  "Tattoo,"  and  "Taps"  for 
lights  out;  and  the  cavalry  camp  as  well  as  the  in 
fantry  and  artillery  camp,  went  to  bed.  General 
Custer's  tent  had  been  pitched  by  itself,  near  to 
General  Hancock's.  The  little  "  pup "  tent  of  Ned 
was  beside  the  tent  of  the  adjutant,  Lieutenant  Moy- 
lan.  And  all  was  still. 

Ned  had  been  sound  asleep,  in  his  blankets,  when 
suddenly  he  was  wakened  by  a  voice,  speaking  low  but 
distinct. 

"Moylan!     Moylan!     Oh,  Moylan!" 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  and  Lieutenant  Moylan  stirred. 

"  It's  I— Custer.    Open  up." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Lieutenant  Moylan  hastily  arose,  and  fumbled  at 
the  flaps,  untying  them.  Ned  peered  out,  the  dim 
figure  of  General  Custer  was  just  visible. 

"  Don't  make  a  light,"  he  said.  "  The  regiment  is 
ordered  to  move  out,  at  once.  Guerrier  has  come  in 
from  the  village  and  reports  all  the  warriors  saddling 
to  leave  in  a  hurry.  The  general  wants  us  to  surround 
the  village  and  nip  that  movement  in  the  bud.  The 
best  way  will  be  for  us  to  notify  the  company  com 
manders,  one  at  a  time,  and  they  can  tell  the  first 
sergeants.  You  take  one  battalion  and  I'll  take  the 

98 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

other.  Fletcher  will  follow  me.  No  noise,  mind. 
Have  the  men  saddle  up  and  fall  in  without  bugle 
signals  or  any  other  signals,  if  possible.  Sabres  held 
to  prevent  clanking." 

The  general  was  not  kept  waiting  long,  where  he 
stood  by  the  tent  flaps;  speedily  Lieutenant  Moylan 
was  treading  with  silent,  hasty  foot,  in  the  one  direc 
tion,  and  Ned  was  following  his  leader  in  the  other. 

Amidst  the  serried  canvases  occurred  a  resurrec 
tion  as  the  captains  sought  the  first  sergeants,  and  the 
first  sergeants  passed  rapidly  from  tent  to  tent, 
whispering  through  to  the  men.  With  astonishingly 
little  confusion  or  noise  the  horses  were  saddled,  the 
companies  were  mounted,  and  all  was  ready. 

A  slight  bustle  from  the  remainder  of  the  camp 
indicated  that  the  infantry  and  artillery  also  had  been 
awakened  and  were  being  put  under  arms. 

This  was  exciting ;  and  as  off  they  rode,  at  a  walk, 
in  long  column,  through  the  still  night,  Ned,  behind 
the  general  and  Adjutant  Moylan  and  Guerrier  the 
interpreter,  thrilled  with  it.  They  were  going  to 
surround  the  Indian  village;  and  there  might  be  a 
fight. 

Every  sabre  was  tucked  between  leg  and  saddle- 
flap,  so  that  it  would  not  clink.  All  in  silence  pro 
ceeded  the  shadowy  column.  Orders  were  given  in 
a  whisper,  and  by  whisper  passed  from  troop  to  troop. 
The  moon  was  almost  full,  but  luckily  the  clouds  con- 

94 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

cealed  it  constantly.  In  the  distance  before  flickered 
the  red  light  of  a  camp  fire,  at  the  village;  it  was  made 
the  guide. 

The  column  swung  in  an  oblique  change  of  direc 
tion,  to  strike  the  village  from  above.  This  was  a 
good  move,  for  if  the  Indians  tried  to  escape,  they 
would  be  forced  to  run  right  into  the  infantry,  at 
the  camp. 

"  Do  you  think  they  suspect  we're  coming,  Guer- 
rier?"  in  low  tone  asked  the  general. 

"  I  do  not  think  so,"  answered  Guerrier. 

"  We'll  have  to  watch  sharp  for  an  ambuscade, 
Moylan,"  prompted  the  general.  "  Our  visit  may 
not  please  the  red  gentlemen." 

Now  the  column  was  near.  The  moon  peeped  but 
between  clouds,  and  then  could  be  seen  the  glimmer  of 
the  white  buffalo-hide  lodges  amidst  the  grove  of 
willows  and  cottonwoods  by  the  river. 

"  Have  each  rear  troop  deploy,  in  succession,  as 
skirmishers,  forming  a  continuous  line  facing  inward, 
around  the  village,"  ordered  the  general,  to  the 
adjutant.  "  But  quietly,  remember."  And  back  rode 
Lieutenant  Moylan,  carrying  the  instructions. 

Skillfully  the  great  circle  was  formed;  for  when, 
suddenly,  out  from  the  clouds  burst  the  moon,  shining 
like  a  light-house  on  an  island  of  the  sky,  it  revealed 
the  cavalrymen  sitting  motionless  on  their  motionless 
horses,  in  a  great  fringe;  and  in  the  center  was  the 

95 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

ghostly  village.  Just  a  little  breeze  sighed  softly 
through  the  cottonwoods,  while  the  stream  flowing 
through  grove  and  village  murmured  music. 

A  horseman  rode  from  down  the  line.  It  was  the 
regimental  surgeon,  Dr.  Coates — a  jolly  man.  always 
eager  for  adventure. 

"  By  thunder !  Believe  they're  all  asleep  yet/'  he 
whispered,  excited. 

".What  do  you  think,  Guerrier?"  queried  the 
general,  ill  at  ease. 

"  Can't  tell.  Maybe,"  answered  the  half-breed, 
peering  from  his  pony. 

"  Well,  we  can  go  in  and  see.  I'd  like  to  know 
whether  we've  captured  a  deserted  village,  after  all." 

"  Sweet  Auburn,  loveliest  village  of  the  plain," 
quoted  the  doctor,  who  was  given  to  saying  such 
things. 

"  Nothing  very  sweet  about  an  Indian  village, 
doctor,"  retorted  the  general.  "  I'll  just  take  you 
along,  to  prove  it.  Tell  the  officers  to  have  their 
troops  wait  at  a  ready,  Moylan,  while  we  take  a 
nearer  look.  Come  back  at  once.  I  want  you  with 
me." 

The  adjutant  quickly  started  the  word  down  the 
circle,  and  returned. 

"  We'd  better  all  go  in,"  bade  the  general,  dis 
mounting.  "  The  bugler,  too.  I  may  need  him. 
Leave  your  horses  here." 

96 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

Quickly  Ned  swung  from  Buckie.  Quickly  swung 
from  their  horses  also  the  doctor,  and  the  lieutenant, 
and  Guerrier  the  interpreter.  They  left  the  animals 
in  charge  of  an  orderly,  and  trudged  forward  afoot. 

The  general  and  Guerrier  led.  The  moonlight 
made  walking  easy,  and  staring  hard  at  the  tents, 
step  by  step  they  advanced,  across  the  open  space 
separating  the  cavalry  circle  from  the  village  in  the 
middle.  Nothing  happened.  As  before,  silence, 
broken  only  by  the  slight  breeze  and  the  tinkling 
water,  reigned. 

Guerrier  called  out  loudly,  in  Cheyenne.  Instantly 
a  dog  barked,  and  another,  and  another,  until  a  furi 
ous  angry  chorus  rent  the  quiet  moonlight. 

"  Many  dogs,"  he  said.  "  So  I  think  they  still 
there.  Dogs  would  go,  too." 

"  Call  again." 

He  did  so.  The  doctor  had  nervously  drawn  his 
revolver. 

"Then  why  don't  they  answer?" 

"  Guess  they  wait,  in  the  trees ;  and  when  we  get 
nearer,  maybe  they  shoot.  No  like  this." 

"  That's  a  comforting  idea,"  blurted  the  general. 
"  But  we've  gone  too  far  to  back  out  with  honor  now. 
Let's  investigate  those  first  lodges." 

He  drew  his  revolver.     Lieutenant  Moylan  drew 

his,  and  Ned  imitated.     The  butt  of  the  heavy  Colt's 

six-shooter  felt  good  to  his  hand.     Once  more  they 

stole  forward,  this  time  more  cautiously.    Ned's  heart 

r  97 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

beat  with  a  thumpity-thumpity ;  but  he  was  not  afraid, 
where  the  general  led. 

The  general  dropped  to  hands  and  knees,  as 
example  to  the  others,  and  thus  crept  to  the  nearest 
of  the  little  bunch  of  lodges.  Occasionally  he  stopped, 
and  listened;  and  then  stopped  and  listened  all,  hold 
ing  their  breaths.  Still  from  the  trees  sped  no  arrow, 
belched  no  sudden  shot,  pealed  no  shrill,  exultant 
voice ;  and  from  the  lodges  issued  not  a  sound. 

"  I  believe  every  soul  has  fled,"  spoke  the  general, 
more  in  ordinary  tone,  and  somewhat  as  if  relieved. 
He  arose  to  stooping  posture.  Guerrier  advanced 
quickly  to  the  first  of  the  lodges,  pulled  aside  the  mat 
that  closed  the  entrance,  and  stepped  within.  One 
after  another  they  followed.  The  lodge  was  empty 
of  inmate. 

The  familiar  odor  of  Indian — of  smoked  skins  and 
kinnikinnick  or  the  leaf  and  tobacco  mixture  used  by 
the  Indian  in  pipes,  of  dogs  and  of  grease,  smote  Ned's 
nostrils.  Yes,  he  had  been  saturated  with  it,  himself, 
in  his  days  of  captivity.  A  fire  was  still  burning  low 
in  the  center  of  the  lodge,  shedding  a  faint  light,  so 
that  they  could  see  about  them.  And  gaze  about  them 
they  did,  the  doctor  the  most  curiously  of  all.  Things 
had  been  left  as  if  the  owners  had  just  stepped  out. 
Soft  buffalo  robes  covered  the  ground ;  the  robe  beds 
were  in  place,  with  the  head  rolls  for  pillows;  the 
parfleches  or  boxes  of  hard  bull-hide  were  carefully 

98 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

stowed  away  along  the  edges  of  the  tent,  as  customary, 
and  they  were  full  of  Indian  handiwork.  Paint- 
bags,  hide  ropes,  moccasins — everything  was  there, 
awaiting  use.  And  over  the  smouldering  fire  was 
hanging  a  kettle,  which  gently  simmered  with  a  steam 
that  smelled  extremely  good. 

This  attracted  the  inquisitive  doctor's  nose  and  eye, 
and  he  proceeded  to  investigate. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  said.  "What  is  it — soup? 
Where's  a  ladle,  or  spoon,  or  something?  Here;  I've 
found  one.  You  fellows  dragged  me  out  without  any 
lunch.  I'm  hungry.  Wait.  I've  always  wanted  to 
try  Indian  cooking.  It  ought  to  be  first  class."  He 
probed  about  in  the  kettle,  and  with  his  horn  spoon 
extracted  a  chunk  the  size  of  his  fist.  "  What  do 
you  suppose  this  is,"  he  queried,  holding  it  up  and 
turning  it  about.  "  Um-m !  Delicious  smell." 

"  Taste  it,"  bade  the  general. 

"  I  will."  And  the  doctor  did.  He  smacked  his 
lips.  "  Excellent !  Excellent !  "  he  exclaimed,  and 
munched  it  down  with  great  satisfaction.  "  Must  be 
buffalo,  cooked  by  a  new  process." 

"  Here's  Guerrier,"  spoke  the  lieutenant.  "  He'll 
know." 

Guerrier  had  vanished,  on  further  tour  of  inspec 
tion  ;  now  he  re-entered. 

"What's  this  meat,  Guerrier?"  asked  the  doctor, 
eagerly.  "Try  it.  Take  my  spoon." 

99 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Guerrier  willingly  enough  plunged  the  spoon  into 
the  kettle,  and  hooked  a  piece  the  largest  yet.  He  set 
his  teeth  into  it. 

"  Why,  it's  dog,  of  course,"  he  informed,  eating 
away. 

"  Dog !  "  gasped  the  doctor.  "  Thunder  and  Mars ! 
Ugh !  Why  didn't  somebody  say  so  ?  "  And  out  he 
rushed. 

Ned  had  suspected  the  same,  but  he  had  not  been 
asked.  Now  chuckled  and  swayed  the  general  and  the 
lieutenant,  smothering  their  glee. 

"  Let's  look  further,"  quoth  the  general.  "  There 
may  be  other  surprises.  Any  sign  of  the  Indians 
about,  Guerrier  ? " 

"  No.     Village  deserted,"  answered  Guerrier. 

They  emerged  from  the  lodge,  into  the  moonlight, 
and  rummaged  here  and  there.  Guerrier  disappeared 
again. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  remarked  the  general,  "  that 
half-breed  knew  of  this  all  along.  He  was  supposed 
to  report  to  headquarters  the  first  token  that  the 
village  was  being  abandoned.  Instead,  he  waited,  to 
let  the  Indians  clear  out,  then  he  reported.  You  know, 
his  wife  was  in  the  village;  and  so  he  wanted  to  make 
her  safe." 

"  Humph !  "  grunted  the  doctor  and  the  lieutenant. 

The  general  went  poking  about;  so  did  the  others. 
One  lodge  did  not  have  any  fire ;  its  interior  was  dark, 
when  the  general  stuck  his  head  in ;  and  picking  up  a 

100 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

splinter  of  wood  he  lighted  it,  for  a  torch.  Then  in 
he  boldly  went — only  to  call  back,  handing  the  splinter 
forth  again. 

"  Light  this,  will  you,  doctor?    It  blew  out  on  me." 

The  doctor  hastened  away,  to  light  the  splinter  at 
a  lodge  fire,  and  Ned  waited  for  him.  The  general 
must  have  been  moving  in  the  dark,  inside,  for  Ned 
heard  a  quick  exclamation  from  him,  and  he  thought 
that  next  he  caught  a  strange  voice,  addressing  the 
general  in  Indian.  It  was  a  low,  quavering  voice ;  and 
he  was  not  certain.  He  clutched  his  revolver,  listen- 
mg,  poised  for  action.  Nothing  more  was  said  be 
yond  the  lodge  doorway;  but  the  doctor  seemed  gone 
a  very  long  time.  At  last  here  he  came,  bearing  the 
light 

"  Is  that  you,  doctor?  "  spoke  the  general,  quickly. 
"  Watch  sharp,  when  you  enter,  and  be  ready  for 
trouble.  Cock  your  revolver.  There's  an  Indian  in 
this  place.  I  stepped  on  him,  and  I  hear  him." 

Through  the  doorway  burst  the  doughty  doctor, 
torch  in  one  hand,  cocked  revolver  in  the  other.  After 
him  pressed  Ned,  revolver  thrust  forward,  eyes  wide, 
heart  thumping,  but  resolved,  he,  to  play  the  man. 

The  general  was  standing  at  the  far  side,  his  hunt 
ing-knife  bared — for  in  the  dark  his  revolver  would 
have  been  of  little  use.  And  there,  between  him  and 
the  door,  was  the  Indian — but  perhaps  not  an  Indian. 
It  was  a  little  girl,  lying  wrapped  in  buffalo  robe,  on 
the  floor. 

101 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Ned  stared,  his  breath  short.  For  a  moment  he 
expected  that  he  had  found  his  sister !  Then  a  second 
look  told  him  that  this  little  girl  was  black  haired  and 
swarthy  skinned,  not  at  all  touching  the  fairness  of 
Mary.  So  he  relaxed,  disappointed. 

"Aha!"  quoth  the  general,  "I  see.  We  won't 
hurt  you,  my  girl.  I  guess  she's  the  more  alarmed  of 
the  two.  Where's  Guerrier  ?  He  ought  to  talk  to  her. 
Fetch  Guerrier,  Ned." 

Forth  hustled  Ned,  and  found  Guerrier.  When 
they  came  back,  the  doctor  was  bending  over  the  little 
girl,  and  petting  her,  while  she  continued  to  roll  her 
shy  eyes,  much  alarmed,  and  would  have  hid  her  head 
in  her  robe. 

"  Deserted  her,  the  cowardly  ruffians,"  denounced 
the  general.  "Ask  her,  Guerrier." 

Guerrier  spoke  to  her  in  Cheyenne;  she  softly 
answered. 

"Yes,"  said  Guerrier.  "Left  her.  She  half 
white.  She  sick,  too." 

"  I  thought  so,"  murmured  the  doctor. 

"  Find  Lieutenant  Moylan,  bugler,"  ordered  the 
general,  quickly,  to  Ned.  "  Give  him  my  compli 
ments  and  tell  him  to  call  in  the  troop  commanders 
and  have  the  village  thoroughly  searched.  Also  tell 
him  to  dispatch  a  courier  to  General  Hancock,  inform 
ing  him  that  the  village  is  abandoned." 

Ned  met  Lieutenant  Moylan  just  outside,  and  de 
livered  the  message.  However,  the  search  revealed 

102 


THE  ABANDONED  INDIAN  VILLAGE 

no  other  occupants  save  the  dogs,  and  an  aged, 
crippled  Sioux  who  had  been  unable  to  travel.  In  the 
moonlight  or  in  the  lodges  was  there  no  sign  as  to 
which  direction  the  fugitives  from  the  village  had 
taken. 

The  courier  reported  back  to  General  Custer  that 
a  detachment  of  infantry  were  being  sent  on,  to  occupy 
the  village  and  hold  it.  Dr.  Coates  in  the  meantime 
had  tenderly  ministered  to  the  needs  of  the  sick  little 
girl,  and  of  the  old  man.  There  was  nothing  more 
for  the  Custer  cavalry  to  do  here.  With  a  brief  state 
ment  of  facts  to  the  commander  of  the  infantry, 
marching  in,  leaving  his  troops  to  follow  the  general 
galloped  away  for  the  camp,  Ned,  orderly  bugler,  and 
Adjutant  Mbylan,  following  hard.  But  their  horses 
were  no  match  for  Phil  Sheridan;  and,  as  usual,  the 
general  beat. 

By  the  manner  in  which  he  rode,  evidently  he 
anticipated  much  work. 


VII 

SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 


GENERAL  CUSTER  wasted  no  time.  Neither  did 
General  Hancock.  So  within  a  very  few  minutes  after 
the  two  generals  were  together  at  camp,  plans  were 
complete.  When  the  troops  of  the  Seventh  came  rid 
ing  in  at  a  trot  their  officers  were  met  at  once  with  the 
orders,  from  headquarters,  to  prepare  their  commands 
for  the  trail.  The  Indians  were  to  be  pursued,  and 
this  was  cavalry  work. 

"  Light  marching  order.  One  hundred  rounds  of 
ammunition  to  the  man,  but  all  other  supplies  cut 
down  to  the  last  necessary  ounce,"  were  the  instruc 
tions,  as  delivered  by  Adjutant  Moylan. 

So  again  was  a  bustle  of  preparation — filling  of 
mess-chests,  tightening  of  horse-shoes,  rolling  of 
blankets,  all  in  the  light  of  camp  fire  and  moon.  Be 
fore  daybreak  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  ready:  eight 
companies,  the  band,  and  a  squad  of  the  scouts  led  by 
Wild  Bill  and  Fall  Leaf. 

The  east  was  pink  when  General  Custer,  standing 
impatiently  waiting  for  the  light,  beside  Custis  Lee 
(to  whom  he  had  changed),  spoke  shortly  to  Ned; 
and  from  the  trumpet  of  the  headquarters  bugler 

104 


SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 

pealed  the  bars  of  "  Boots  and  Saddles."  Willingly 
enough  the  Seventh  Cavalry  men  again  formed  lines, 
and  mounted;  for  now  they  were  rid  of  the  "  dough 
boys,"  and  would  travel  fast  and  far,  to  catch  the 
pesky  Indians. 

A  frost  had  whitened  the  ground,  and  had  been 
marked  by  horse  tracks,  so  that  at  the  village  were 
many  trails.  But  the  Delawares  ranged  hither-thither 
until,  with  a  triumphant  whoop,  the  youngest  warrior 
of  all  announced  that  he  had  found  the  real  trail. 

The  general's  sabre  flashed  in  the  beams  of  the 
rising  sun. 

"  By   fours,   right !     For-r-r'd — march !  " 

"By  fours,  right!  For-r-r'd — march!"  was  re 
peated  down  the  column  the  command.  The  Seventh 
Cavalry  was  off,  on  its  first  independent  scout. 

The  fan-shaped  line  of  the  scouts,  with  Wild  Bill 
and  Fall  Leaf  to  the  fore,  held  the  advance,  that  they 
might  read  the  trail.  After,  came  the  cavalry,  the 
general  and  his  adjutant  at  its  head,  baggage  wagons 
toward  the  rear,  and  a  rear-guard  of  one  troop  be 
hind.  General  Custer  had  again  donned  his  buck 
skin  hunting-coat,  which  was  so  comfortable  for  him, 
and  which  would  indicate  hard  work  ahead.  He 
looked  as  he  had  when  Ned  had  first  seen  him.  And 
hard  work  ahead  was  the  expectation,  for  the  Indians 
had  gained  a  good  start. 

At  rapid  walk  of  the  horses  rode  they  all.  The 
trailing  lodge-poles  of  the  fleeing  village  made  a  trail 

105 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

plain  to  every  eye.  A  feeling  of  satisfaction  spread 
when,  after  a  time,  the  scouts  before  started  on  at  a 
gallop,  with  wave  of  rifle  and  flutter  of  blanket,  for  a 
little  grove  ahead.  A  faint  curl  of  smoke  could  be 
sighted;  and  there  was  a  glimpse  of  moving  forms. 

"  Sound  the  trot,"  promptly  bade  the  general. 

At  Ned's  bugle  signal,  "  Trot — march !  "  was  re 
peated  down  the  eager  column.  Away  they  spurred, 
ready  to  deploy  into  action.  But  after  a  brief  pause, 
to  reconnoiter,  the  scouts  had  proceeded  boldly.  When 
the  column  reached  the  place  they  found  only  the  still 
burning  fires  where  the  Indians  had  halted  for  hasty 
breakfast,  and  several  ponies,  with  packs,  left  tethered 
to  the  trees.  And  here  was  a  strange  Indian,  strutting 
about  arrayed  in  a  panoply  of  bright  crimson  feathers, 
while  the  scouts  looked  on  and  laughed. 

However,  this  was  only  the  Delaware  General 
Jackson,  Fall  Leaf's  nephew,  who  had  arrived  first 
at  the  grove  and  had  made  a  capture  of  the  ponies. 

"  Roman  Nose !  "  he  proclaimed,  "  Heap  feather. 
Ugh!" 

"  One  o'  these  pony  packs  belonged  to  Roman 
Nose,  the  Delawares  say,"  explained  Wild  Bill,  to 
General  Custer.  "  That  youngster's  as  proud  as  if 
he'd  captured  the  chief  himself." 

There  was  nothing  for  which  to  stop  here;  and 
paying  no  more  attention  to  the  ponies  or  the  break 
fast  camp,  allowing  the  Delawares  to  do  what  they 
pleased  with  the  packs,  the  Seventh  Cavalry  pressed 

106 


SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 

on.  Jackson  rode  exultant,  his  braids  ornamented 
with  the  Roman  Nose  feathers. 

"  We're  out-trailing  them,"  asserted  the  general, 
to  Lieutenant  Moylan.  "  The  only  question  is,  can 
we  overtake  them  before  dark?  We've  got  to  do  it." 

The  baggage  wagons  were  dropped  behind,  with* 
a  squadron  of  two  troops  to  guard  them.  The  three 
other  squadrons  traveled  the  faster,  and  ever  the  trail 
led  northward,  as  for  the  Smoky  Hill  Fork,  or  the 
Platte  beyond. 

Noon  had  passed,  but  there  was  no  halt  for  dinner. 
General  Custer  evidently  was  not  a  man  to  delay  on 
the  trail.  Suddenly  Ned  realized  that  it  was  not  a 
question  alone  of  capturing  the  Indians;  it  was  the 
bigger  question  of  saving  the  settlers.  From  friend- 
lies  these  Cheyennes  and  Sioux  had  threatened  to  be 
come  hostiles,  and  their  trail  bent  straight  not  only 
for  the  Indian  country  to  the  north,  but  also  for  the 
stage  routes,  and  the  settlements  of  the  Smoky  Hill 
Fork,  and  the  Republican,  and  the  Saline,  and  all. 

The  afternoon  waxed  and  waned,  and  still  never  a 
glimpse  of  the  Indians  was  given.  Presently  the 
scouts  in  the  advance  slackened,  hovered,  and  spread 
to  right  and  left,  nosing  like  hounds.  They  were  at 
fault.  Then  was  it  seen  that  the  trail  suddenly  had 
divided,  out-flaring  into  a  score  of  smaller  trails,  whicK 
again  split  into  other  trails  yet  smaller,  as  if  the  flee 
ing  band  had  burst  asunder. 

This  was  the  Indians'  favorite  trick,  when  closely 

107 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

pursued.  A  murmur  of  vexation  arose,  while  the 
column,  halted,  must  sit  and  wait  upon  the  decision  of 
the  scouts.  The  general  and  his  adjutant,  followed 
by  Ned  the  bugler  orderly,  rode  forward  to  inspect. 
Wild  Bill  joined  them. 

"  They're  throwing  us  off,  general,"  he  announced, 
calmly.  "  I  reckon  all  we  can  do  is  to  pick  one  of  the 
middle  trails  and  follow  it  and  trust  to  luck.  Fall 
Leaf  has  a  trail  that  we  might  as  well  take." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  agreed  General  Custer,  brusquely. 
"We  must  do  all  that  we  can,  before  darkness  cuts 
us  short." 

"  For-r-r'd — march !  "  On  this  trail  out  of  the 
many  rode  the  column;  but  must  pause  frequently, 
while  the  scouts  searched  right  and  left  and  before, 
as  ever  the  sign  lessened,  like  a  stream  at  headwaters. 
At  five  o'clock  it  had  been  reduced  to  a  mere  thread, 
for  the  Indians  who  had  made  it  had  dropped  off,  one 
by  one.  Signal-smokes  could  be  seen,  welling  up  in 
east,  west  and  north,  as  the  scattered  parties  spoke 
one  another.  In  the  dusk  must  the  Seventh  Cavalry 
halt,  to  make  camp,  rest  the  horses,  and  wait  for  day 
light.  The  Indians  had  not  been  headed,  and  hearts 
were  heavy.  Woe  betide  the  Smoky  Hill  stage  route, 
and  the  ranches  of  central  Kansas. 

The  next  day  the  trail  was  lost  utterly  in  a  dried 
water-course.  Then  by  night  march  toward  the  north 
star  was  struck  the  Smoky  Hill  River.  Beyond  was 
the  stage  route.  Colonel  Robert  West  (who  really 

108 


SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 

ranked  as  captain,  but  was  colonel  because  of  his  Civil 
War  record)  was  sent  forward  with  one  company  to 
find  it.  Then  in  the  brightening  gray  the  camp  slept ; 
officers  and  men  sprawled  out  under  their  blankets. 
Ned  never  before  had  been  so  tired. 

Dreaming,  as  he  slept,  of  facing  Pawnee  Killer 
again  and  with  leveled  revolver  frightening  him  into 
telling  where  little  Mary  was,  up  he  popped,  startled 
out  of  slumber  and  dream  by  a  quick  "  Bang !  "  of 
carbine  and  the  shrill  hail  by  sentry :  "  Indians !  " 
The  corporal  of  the  guard  repeated  it. 

All  the  camp  was  in  commotion.  Orders  issued 
thick  and  fast,  from  where  the  general  was  standing, 
with  sabre  buckled  on  and  eyes  flashing. 

"  Bring  in  those  stray  animals !  Have  those  horses 
secured,  major.  One  platoon  of  each  company  with 
the  horses.  The  other  platoons  fall  in.  Sound  the 
assembly,  trumpeter." 

A  heavy  mist  hung  low  along  the  horizon;  but 
through  it  could  be  descried,  dimly,  almost  a  mile 
away,  a  group  of  moving  horsemen.  They  seemed  to 
be  riding  rapidly  for  the  camp.  Wild  Bill  had  re 
ported  at  once  to  headquarters,  and  peering  through 
field-glasses,  to  him  the  general  spoke. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  them,  Bill?  " 

"  They're  up  to  mischief,  I  should  think,"  coolly 
replied  Wild  Bill,  whose  eyes  were  as  good  as  the 
general's  glass.  "Act  as  if  they  meant  to  ride  us 
down." 

109 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"Line  of  skirmishers  ahead;  main  body  in  re 
serve,"  murmured  the  general,  studying  them.  "  By 
Jove!  They're  as  well  disciplined  as  regular  troops! 
Let  'em  come.  All  we  want  is  a  fair  fight."  These 
words,  "  a  fair  fight,"  were  among  General  Custer's 
favorites.  "  Form  line  of  platoons,  adjutant.  Have 
the  men  take  intervals,  and  lie  down,  enclosing  the 
camp." 

Captain  Robbins  had  been  posted  upon  the  knoll 
whence  the  sentry  had  given  the  alarm.  From  him 
came  reports  that  the  enemy  seemed  to  number  about 
eighty;  presently  he  reported  that  the  enemy  had 
halted;  and  next,  the  enemy  had  turned  and  were 
making  off. 

"  Pshaw ! "  exclaimed  the  general,  in  that  brisk 
voice  of  his.  "  Confound  them !  I  was  hoping  they'd 
try  closer  quarters.  Look  into  this,  Moylan.  Send 
out  a  small  detail,  for  a  better  view  of  those  fellows. 
Not  too  far,  remember." 

Gladly  into  the  saddle  sprang  the  young  Captain 
Hamilton  and  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer,  and  leading 
their  detail  raced  out  at  a  gallop.  The  mists  were 
breaking  under  the  rising  sun;  and  it  could  be  seen 
that  the  detail  were  galloping  on  and  on,  right  into 
the  waiting  company  before. 

"  Hamilton  must  intend  to  settle  the  war,"  quoth 
Adjutant  Moylan. 

However,  here  galloped  back  again  the  detail. 
'Pulling  up  short,  Captain  Hamilton  saluted  the 
general. 

no 


SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Colonel  West's  company,  sir,  confused  in  the 
mist.  They  mistook  our  Sibley  tents  for  Indian  tipis, 
and  were  about  to  charge  us." 

"  Plucky  enough !  "  commented  the  general.  "  But 
West  won't  hear  the  last  of  this,  for  some  time." 

When,  toward  evening,  Colonel  West  returned, 
with  his  weary  company,  he  reported  that  there  was 
no  hope.  The  Indians  had  struck  the  stage  line,  and 
raiding  right  and  left  had  crossed  it.  Probably  all 
the  bands  and  tribes  to  the  north  would  be  aroused. 
This  was  war. 

Now  the  wagons  had  rolled  in.  To  the  bugles  the 
Seventh  Cavalry  grimly  buckled  on  its  sabres,  and 
bridled  and  saddled. 

"  Prepare  to  mount !     Mount !  " 

They  mounted. 

"  By  fours,  right !    For-r-r'd — march !  " 

Across  the  valley  of  the  Smoky  Hill  they  soberly 
jogged,  their  wagons  lumbering  in  their  rear,  for  the 
stage  route,  and  the  frightened  stations.  Presently 
they  might  turn  east,  upon  the  well-worn  wagon-trail, 
to  follow  it  to  Fort  Hays. 

The  first  two  stage  stations  were  silent  and 
abandoned.  Along  the  route  was  not  a  sign  of  life. 
The  advance  of  the  fleeing  Cheyennes  and  Sioux 
seemed  to  have  swept  the  country  clean.  About  the 
deserted  appearance  of  the  valley  was  something 
ominously  quiet.  But  the  third  station  was  occupied. 

A  little  cheer  arose  from  it  as  the  column  rode  in ; 
in 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

and  a  group  of  stablemen  and  drivers  stood  out,  to 
welcome.  They  were  heavily  armed,  and  log  stables 
and  station  house,  under  their  sod  roofs,  were  tightly 
closed  as  if  for  a  siege.  At  this  point  four  stations 
had  gathered  in  mutual  protection. 

"  What's  the  matter  here?  "  demanded  the  general. 

"  Matter  enough ! "  spoke  one  in  the  group. 
"  Hello,  Bill.  The  Injuns  are  out.  They've  crossed 
the  line,  goin'  north.  Several  parties  of  'em,  both 
Sioux  an'  Cheyennes.  Yes,  sir.  The  lid's  off  an' 
the  pot's  bubblin'.  One  party  had  women  an'  chil 
dren,  but  the  bucks  are  in  their  war  paint,  an'  they're 
raidin'  right  an'  left.  The  stages  have  quit,  till  things 
simmer  down  agin,  an'  the  settlers  ought  to  be 
warned." 

With  parting  word,  and  with  grave  face,  issuing 
his  crisp  "  For-r-r'd — march!  "  repeated  by  the  bugles, 
the  general  pressed  on. 

On  the  second  day  they  approached  a  station 
which,  alas,  presented  a  different  aspect.  From  afar 
it  showed,  beside  the  trail,  blackened  and  smoking  and 
partially  razed  to  the  ground. 

"Lookout  Station,"  informed  Wild  Bill. 

"  Bad  work  there,"  quoth  the  general,  abruptly, 
spurring  Custis  Lee. 

The  Delawares  arrived  first,  to  nose  about,  and  to 
stand  surveying. 

"  They've  found  something,"  declared  Wild  Bill. 

He,  anift  the  general,  and  Adjutant  Moylan  galloped 

112 


SCOUTING  WITH  CUSTER 

forward ;  Ned  plugged  after ;  the  column  followed  at  a 
trot. 

Bad  work,  indeed.  Much  of  the  buildings  was  in 
ashes,  still  smouldering.  A  portion  of  the  heavy 
chinked  log  walls  jutted  up  charred  and  ugly.  The 
Delawares  were  clustered,  at  one  side,  on  the  plain, 
examining  a  mass  difficult  to  determine,  at  a  little 
distance.  But  a  nearer  view  told.  The  litter  once 
had  been  human  beings. 

"  Scalped  and  burned,"  said  Wild  Bill. 

Nobody  else  spoke  a  word.  He  and  the  general 
and  the  lieutenant  sombrely  gazed.  The  doctor  joined, 
horrified.  The  Delawares  looked  from  face  to  face, 
and  waited.  Ned  stared,  and  choked. 

"  The  station  gang,  three  of  'em,"  announced  Wild 
Bill.  "  Delawares  say  they  were  staked  down,  alive. 
You  can  guess  the  rest." 

"  Are  there  any  signs  who  did  it — what  Indians  ?  " 
demanded  General  Custer,  sternly. 

Fall  Leaf,  who  spoke  English,  shook  his  head. 

"  No  arrow,  no  moccasin,  nothin',"  he  grunted. 
"  Come  quick ;  capture  men ;  scalp,  burn,  go.  Mebbe 
Cheyenne,  mebbe  Sioux.  Make  trail,"  and  he  pointed 
northward. 

There  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  bury  by  the  stage 
road  the  poor  mangled  fragments.  And  at  dusk  the 
command  rode  into  Fort  Hays,  fifteen  miles.  I 


VIII 
PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 


FORT  HAYS  was  eighty  miles  west  from  Fort 
Harker,  and  Fort  Harker  was  ninety  miles  west  from 
Fort  Riley ;  so  that  now  Fort  Riley  was  one  hundred 
and  seventy  miles  distant.  Not  much  of  a  fort  was 
Hays  either,  composed,  like  Harker,  of  quarters  and 
stables  built  of  logs  roughly  faced.  It  'was  located 
on  the  south  side  of  the  crooked  Big  Creek,  which 
between  high  clay  banks  flowed  down  to  the  Smoky 
Hill  Fork  River,  fifteen  miles  south.  On  the  north 
side  of  the  creek,  and  up  stream  a  little  way,  was  the 
new  town  of  Hays  City,  waiting  for  the  railroad. 

Fort  Hays  was  glad  to  see  the  column  ride  down, 
and  pitch  its  tents  nearby.  Back  from  its  first  cam 
paign  was  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  and  although  it  had 
not  fired  a  shot,  save  the  one  by  the  picket,  it  had 
many  tales  to  tell  to  the  Fort  Hays  garrison. 

Speedily  up  sprang  like  mushrooms  the  lines  of 
dingy  white  army  canvas.  There  was  a  great  letter 
writing  spell.  Couriers  were  about  to  dash  away  with 
dispatches  for  General  Hancock,  and  (what  was  of 
more  importance)  with  word  to  Fort  Riley.  The 
general,  as  usual,  had  a  regular  journal  to  send. 

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PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

General  Gibbs  also  hastened  off ;  for  in  the  accumula 
tion  of  mail  awaiting  at  Fort  Hays  were  letters  from 
Mrs.  Custer  and  Mrs.  Gibbs  and  other  women  left 
behind,  stating  that  the  negro  infantry  there  had 
mutinied  and  were  behaving  badly.  However, 
General  Gibbs  was  the  man  to  discipline  them,  and  he 
really  ought  not  to  attempt  field  service,  anyway. 

Shortly  after  the  Seventh  had  reared  its  tents, 
Scout  Bill  Cody  came  riding  in,  and  dismounted  at 
headquarters.  The  orderly  ushered  him  into  the  tent, 
to  see  the  general.  When  the  general  and  Bill  emerged 
together,  the  general  beckoned  to  Ned. 

"  Mr.  Cody  has  brought  word,  we  think,  of  your 
sister.  Cut  Nose  the  Cheyenne  chief  is  reported  to  be 
west  of  here,  with  a  little  white  girl  he  has  adopted. 
He  took  her  with  him  into  Monument  Station,  and 
calls  her  Silver  Hair,  the  station  men  say." 

"Did  they  keep  her,  sir?"  asked  Ned,  eagerly. 
Oh,  what  if ! 

General  Custer  smiled  only  sadly,  and  shook  his 
head. 

"  No,  my  boy.  The  station  men  could  not  do 
that." 

"  Was  your  sister  a  small  gal,  not  more  than  a 
child ;  right  pretty,  with  flax  hair  ?  "  demanded  Scout 
Bill  Cody,  searching  Ned  out  of  wide  steady  eyes  as 
piercing  as  Wild  Bill's  themselves. 

"  Yes !  "  said  Ned.  "  Her  name  is  Mary.  She's 
eight  years  old," 

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ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Well,"  remarked  Scout  Cody,  preparing  to  mount 
his  horse,  "  her  name  is  Silver  Hair  now.  Cut  Nose 
has  her.  At  least,  he  did  have  her.  But  she  was  being 
well  treated,  they  say.  He'd  made  a  sort  o'  pet  of 
her,  the  old  rascal.  The  station  men  tried  to  buy  her 
from  him;  but  he  said  no.  I'll  keep  on  the  lookout 
for  her.  Maybe  we  can  get  her."  And  dignified  of 
face,  jaunty  of  poise,  off  rode  Pony  Bill  Cody,  on 
errand  bound.  Thereafter  Ned  saw  him  frequently. 
He  seemed  to  rank  with  Wild  Bill  Hickok  as  an 
important  figure  at  Fort  Hays  and  Hays  City. 

"Then  she's  gone  again,  is  she?"  faltered  Ned, 
to  the  general.  "  Cut  Nose  still  has  her,  has  he,  sir?  " 

"  Very  likely.  Yes,  he  took  her,  my  lad,"  answered 
General  Custer,  gently.  "  But  here,"  he  added,  in 
abrupt  fashion.  "  She's  being  well  treated,  didn't 
Cody  say?  She  was  dressed  like  an  Indian  princess. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?  That's  something  for 
which  to  be  thankful.  Think  of  other  captive  girls 
and  women — how  they've  suffered.  And  we'll  get 
her,  if  it  requires  all  the  Seventh  Cavalry  and  the 
United  States  treasury.  Brace  up,  boy." 

For  Ned  was  crying. 

In  due  time  dispatches  arrived  from  General  Han 
cock,  who  was  still  on  the  Arkansas,  trying  to  bring 
the  principal  chiefs  in  to  council.  When,  at  dress 
parade,  Lieutenant  Moylan  as  adjutant  read  to  the 
assembled  troops  the  announcements  or  orders  of  the 
day,  "  by  direction  of  the  commanding  general "  he 

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PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

included  among  them  this  special  field  order,  issued 
from  camp  near  the  Arkansas : 

II.  As  a  punishment  for  the  bad  faith  practised  by  the 
Cheyennes  and  Sioux  who  occupied  the  Indian  village  at  this 
place,  and  as  a  chastisement  for  murders  and  depredations 
committed  since  the  arrival  of  the  command  at  this  point,  by 
the  people  of  these  tribes,  the  village  recently  occupied  by  them, 
which  is  now  in  our  hands,  will  be  utterly  destroyed. 

At  that,  delivered  in  Adjutant  Moylan's  loud  voice, 
from  the  troops  arose  a  cheer. 

"  Well,  'tis  war  now,  if  'twasn't  before,"  declared 
Sergeant  Henderson,  that  evening,  within  hearing  of 
Ned. 

"  Why  so,  Pete  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  other  soldiers. 

"'Cordin'  to  Wild  Bill,  that  village  had  $150,000 
worth  of  stuff  in  it;  an'  d'ye  suppose  the  Injuns'll 
stand  for  the  destruction  of  it  all?  Now  they'll  claim 
we  started  the  war,  an'  we  claim  they  started  it, 
an'  what  the  end'll  be,  nobody  can  say." 

"  In  my  opinion,"  said  Sergeant  Kennedy, 
"  General  Hancock  ought  never  to  have  let  that  village- 
full  get  away  from  him.  They  played  with  him,  and 
held  him  off,  and  then  they  gave  him  the  slip." 

"  You're  right,"  agreed  Henderson.  "  An*  now 
we're  up  agin  it,  with  the  Injuns  loose  in  three  hundred 
miles  square  o'  territory,  an'  we  chasin'  'em.  An' 
won't  there  be  a  great  howl,  from  the  agents  an'  the 
traders  an'  the  contractors,  because  the  war  is  spoilin' 
their  business." 

117 


"  Those  traders  and  contractors  are  responsible 
for  much  of  this  trouble,  just  the  same/'  asserted  the 
lawyer  "  rooky  "  (who  now  was  a  veteran).  "  They 
do  not  deliver  the  agency  goods  in  quality  and  quantity 
up  to  grade." 

"  That's  true,"  nodded  Odell.  "  ,Yez  ought  to  see 
some  o'  the  stuff  that  gets  through  to  the  Injuns. 
Shoddy  cotton  for  wool;  shirts  ye  can  stick  your 
finger  through,  an'  suits  o'  clothes  that  won't  hang 
together  while  the  Injun  puts  'em  on  an'  that  the 
Government  pays  the  contractor  thirteen  dollars  for !  " 

:t  Yes,"  said  Sergeant  Henderson.  "  An'  the  first 
thing  the  Injun  does  with  the  pants  is  to  cut  out  the 
seat.  What  do  they  want  o'  suits  o'  clothes,  anyway— « 
one  suit  a  year!  An'  the  government  thinks  to  trade 
'em  this  way  for  their  lands  an'  game  an'  all  that,  an' 
lets  'em  get  cheated  into  the  bargain." 

"  Huh ! "  grunted  another  member  of  the  circle. 
"  They  don't  fare  any  worse'n  us  fellows.  Did  you 
notice  that  bread  served  out  to  us  to-night?  Talk 
about  hard-tack!  Cook  says  the  boxes  show  it  was 
baked  in  '61 — six  years  ago!  Even  a  mule  won't 
eat  it." 

"Sure,"  answered  Odell.  "And  didn't  wan  o' 
the  boxes  o'  salt  beef  opened  at  the  commissary  con 
tain  a  big  stone,  to  make  it  weigh  more !  " 

General  Hancock  passed  through  back  from  the 
south.  Then  followed  another  event.  This  was  the 

118 


PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

arrival  of  the  great  General  Sherman,  who  was  com 
mander  of  the  whole  Military  Division  of  the  Missouri, 
whereas  General  Hancock  was  commander  only  of 
the  Department  of  the  Missouri,  in  it.  Of  course 
everybody  knew  of  General  William  Tecumseh  Sher 
man,  the  man  who  had  "  marched  to  the  sea."  And 
with  General  Sherman  came,  in  the  same  ambulance 
from  Fort  Harker,  the  end  of  the  railroad,  Mrs. 
Custer  and  Miss  Diana! 

General  Sherman  proved  to  be  just  like  his  picture, 
which  Ned  had  seen  several  times:  a  tall  spare  man, 
slightly  stooped,  with  high  forehead,  and  long  severe 
face,  crisp  full  beard  of  russet  color,  and  blue  eyes. 
"  Brass  mounted,"  some  of  the  soldiers  called  him ; 
and  the  veterans  referred  to  him  affectionately  as 
"  Old  Bill."  When  he  smiled  he  was  very  pleasant. 

The  post  and  the  camp  turned  out  in  a  review  to 
do  him  honor.  However,  the  best  sight,  to  Ned,  was 
the  way  in  which,  when  the  ambulance  stopped  at  the 
tent  and  Eliza's  black  face  peered  out  all  agrin,  with 
a  whoop  the  general  rushed  up  and  swung  the  happy 
Mrs.  'Custer  to  him.  How  they  chattered! 

The  general  busied  himself  making  Mrs.  Custer 
and  the  rest  of  the  household  comfortable  in  special 
new  tents,  on  Big  Creek,  nearer  the  fort.  For  the 
Seventh  Cavalry  was  ordered  out  again.  Two  com 
panies  were  left  at  Hays;  the  six  others,  350  men  and 
twenty  wagons,  marched  forth,  into  the  north. 

119 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Wild  Bill  remained  behind  to  carry  forward  dis 
patches  when  some  were  ready.  Young  Bill  Cody  was 
held  to  serve  as  scout  for  other  cavalry.  But  when  the 
Seventh  started  Ned  witnessed  riding  ahead  as  guide, 
another  young  man,  of  fair  complexion  and  hand 
some  features  and  easy  seat.  His  name  was  Corn- 
stock — Will  Comstock.  Ah,  yes;  and  a  splendid 
young  scout  he  was,  too,  equal  to  the  best ;  could  speak 
Sioux  and  Cheyenne  and  some  Arapaho,  and  talk  the 
sign  language,  and  knew  every  trail  and  water  course. 
See  that  revolver  he  wears  ?  Pearl-handled  and  silver- 
mounted!  One  of  the  finest  revolvers  on  the  plains. 
He  thinks  a  heap  of  it,  too,  does  Will  Comstock. 

Thus  by  ears  and  by  eyes  did  Ned  learn  the  char* 
acter  of  the  new  guide. 

The  march  was  to  be  from  Fort  Hays  and  the 
valley  of  the  Smoky  Hill  in  central  Kansas  north 
across  the  broad  plains  country  250  miles  to  Fort  Mc- 
Pherson  on  the  Platte  River  in  southwestern  Nebraska. 
But  although  through  the  center  of  this  country  flowed 
down  the  Republican  River,  on  whose  upper  waters 
1000  hostile  Sioux  and  Cheyennes  were  rumored  to  be 
lurking,  without  a  fight  the  Seventh  Cavalry  arrived 
at  Fort  McPherson,  named  for  General  John  Mc 
Pherson,  once  commander  of  the  Army  of  Tennessee. 

Fort  McPherson,  in  the  Department  of  the  Platte, 
was  only  a  handful  of  cedar-log  cabins,  helping  to 
guard  the  Overland  Trail  and  the  new  Union  Pacific 

120 


PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

Railroad,  as  in  the  south  Fort  Harker,  Hays,  and  all 
guarded  the  Smoky  Hill  trail  and  the  new  Kansas 
Pacific  Railroad.  It  was  garrisoned  by  two  troops 
of  the  Second  Cavalry. 

Ahead  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  had  arrived,  by  rail 
road  as  far  as  McPherson,  and  thence  by  stage, 
General  Sherman.  He  now  was  at  Fort  Sedgwick, 
west,  near  to  Julesberg  of  northeastern  Colorado 
Territory. 

General  Custer  sent  Lieutenant  Moylan  ahead  into 
the  post,  with  dispatches  for  General  Sherman,  and  to 
get  any  dispatches  that  might  be  waiting.  Lieutenant 
Moylan  returned,  meeting  the  column  as  it  prepared 
to  make  temporary  camp.  The  adjutant  had  word. 

"  Pawnee  Killer  and  some  of  his  Sioux  are  en 
camped  about  ten  miles  out,  general,"  he  announced 
"  A  post  scout  just  brought  in  the  news." 

"  What  are  they  doing?  " 

"  Nothing,  I  understand.  They  arrived  about  the 
same  time  we  did.  They  pretend  to  be  peaceful." 

"  We'd  better  find  out,  then,"  declared  the  general. 
"  What  do  you  think,  Comstock  ?  Shall  we  try  a 
conference  ?  " 

"  Corral  the  whole  outfit,  gentlemen,  while  you 
have  the  chance,  is  my  guess,"  answered  Scout  Will 
Comstock. 

"  Well,  I  can't  adopt  any  harsh  measures  without 
orders,"  replied  the  general.  "  We've  got  to  encour 
age  the  Indians  to  be  friendly." 

121 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  All  right,"  said  Comstock,  rather  gloomily.  "  I 
s'pose  'cordin'  to  those  thar  peace  people  out  East, 
soldiers  an'  everybody  ought  to  wait  an'  let  the  Injuns 
shoot  fust;  an'  then  if  they  miss,  give  'em  another 
try,  so  as  to  keep  'em  amused ! " 

General  Custer  made  no  answer;  but  by  the  little 
smile  under  his  tawny  moustache  he  seemed  to  agree 
with  Comstock's  disgusted  opinion. 

Word  was  sent  to  Pawnee  Killer  to  come  into 
camp,  for  a  talk ;  and  that  afternoon  in  he  came.  But 
the  talk  amounted  to  nothing.  Soon  was  it  seen  that 
the  suave  and  crafty  Sioux  intended  to  find  out  what 
the  soldiers  were  up  to,  and  not  to  tell  what  he  was 
up  to.  General  Custer  said  to  him  that  he  must  move 
his  people  in  near  to  the  forts,  so  that  they  would  not 
be  mistaken  for  hostiles.  Pawnee.  Killer  blandly  re 
plied  that  he  would,  as  fast  as  he  could.  In  order  to 
please  the  visitors  the  general  directed  that  they  be 
given  sugar  and  coffee;  and  they  rode  away  again. 

None  of  the  men  believed  what  Pawnee  Killer  had 
said;  and  some  rather  thought  that  the  general  had 
been  foolish  to  treat  him  so  well,  and  let  him  think 
that  he  was  hoodwinking  the  white  chief.  Upon  the 
arrival,  again,  of  General  Sherman,  from  Sedgwick, 
the  Seventh  was  ordered  south  to  the  Forks  of  the 
Republican,  to  find  Pawnee  Killer's  village. 

General  Sherman  rode  with  General  Custer  for 
fifteen  miles,  talking  matters  over  with  him.  Ned, 

122 


PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

behind,  could  hear  much  of  the  conversation,  and  it 
showed  matters  to  be  considered  serious.  The  Sioux 
of  the  north  were  sending  warriors  down  to  join  with 
the  Sioux  and  Cheyennes  of  the  south;  the  Arapahos 
were  uneasy,  although  Little  Raven  and  Black  Kettle 
were  promising  to  hold  them  steady;  a  friendly  band 
of  Brule  or  Burnt  Thigh  Sioux  under  Chief  Spotted 
Tail  had  been  forced  to  move  from  the  Republican 
Forks  north  across  the  Platte  at  Julesberg — because, 
said  Spotted  Tail,  his  young  warriors  were  getting 
excited ;  and  down  on  the  Arkansas,  Satanta,  wearing 
the  major-general  uniform  that  had  been  given  him, 
had  driven  off  the  horse-herd  from  Fort  Dodge  itself ! 
Stage  stations  had  been  burned  on  the  Platte  River 
route — yes,  not  far  from  Fort  McPherson;  and  on 
the  Smoky  Hill  route.  Union  Pacific  and  Kansas 
Pacific  Railroad  surveying  parties  had  been  attacked. 
On  the  Republican  and  other  settled  streams  ranches 
had  been  pillaged.  It  looked  as  though  a  real  Indian 
war  was  brewing. 

By  Eastern  people  the  army  on  the  plains  was 
being  much  criticized.  Some  of  these  people  depended 
upon  the  Indian  trade  for  business ;  but  some  thought 
that  the  Indian  was  abused.  It  did  not  seem  right  to 
them  that  General  Hancock  had  destroyed  the  village 
on  Pawnee  Fork.  The  Indians,  said  these  people 
through  the  newspapers  and  in  speeches,  should  be 
left  to  the  control  of  the  agencies.  The  soldiers  wished 
only  fighting. 

123 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTEB 

However,  General  Sherman  appeared  to  be  little 
influenced  by  the  criticisms  of  the  Eastern  peace  party ; 
although  he  did  say,  rather  angrily : 

"  I  tell  you,  Custer,  there'll  be  no  peace  on  the 
plains  until  the  Indians  are  so  subdued  that  they  can 
be  controlled  by  constables  instead  of  soldiers.  Mean 
time  the  War  Department  ought  to  have  complete 
charge  of  the  tribes.  Now  while  we're  doing  the  fight 
ing  at  one  end  of  the  line  to  enforce  our  terms,  the 
civil  agents  make  a  treaty  at  the  other  end,  on  different 
terms.  Then  the  treaty  is  broken  and  the  work  must 
be  done  all  over  again.  And  if  the  agents  and  the 
traders  are  to  be  permitted  to  supply  the  savages  with 
arms,  in  defiance  of  the  orders  of  the  military,  I  be 
lieve  in  withdrawing  every  soldier  from  the  district 
and  letting  the  civil  authorities  settle  affairs.  We  have 
a  hard  enough  task,  without  being  called  upon  to  face 
weapons  furnished  by  our  own  government." 

All  peaceful  was  that  rolling  plains  country,  dur 
ing  the  four  days'  march  of  seventy-five  miles  down 
to  the  Forks  of  the  Republican.  From  the  crest  of 
each  rise  was  to  be  seen  the  same  vista  before  as 
behind :  the  grasses,  the  June  flowers,  the  willows  and 
cottonwoods,  the  sandstone  uplifts,  the  long  swells, 
with  the  only  moving  creatures  the  elk,  the  antelope, 
the  buffalo,  the  black-tail  deer,  the  wolf,  rabbit  and 
prairie  dog. 

The  Forks  of  the  Republican  also  seemed  deserted ; 

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PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

but  who  might  tell  here,  as  on  the  march,  what  Indian 
heads  were  peering  from  ravines,  over  hillocks,  or 
through  bushes,  spying  upon  the  horses,  the  wagons 
and  the  blue-bloused  men. 

North  to  Fort  Sedgwick,  seventy-five  miles,  were 
sent  with  dispatches  for  General  Sherman,  Major 
Joel  Elliott  and  picked  escort  of  ten  men.  South  to 
Fort  Wallace,  eighty  miles,  was  sent  for  supplies  a 
wagon-train  under  command  of  Lieutenant  (colonel, 
they  called  him)  William  Cook  and  Lieutenant  Samuel 
Robbins.  Major  West  was  escort.  By  Colonel  Cook 
went  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Custer,  telling  her  that  she  might 
come  back  with  him,  by  way  of  Fort  Wallace,  to  the 
camp. 

Some  of  the  men  criticised  this  as  not  wise  in  the 
general,  not  safe  for  Mrs.  Custer.  Indians  surely 
were  about,  and  they  would  take  big  chances  to  make 
a  white  woman  captive.  Anybody  who  knew  Mrs. 
Custer,  also  knew  that  she  would  come.  Fire,  water 
or  savages  would  not  stop  her  from  trying  to  join  the 
general.  So  there  was  dubious  shaking  of  heads,  when 
the  news  leaked  out. 

Yes,  the  Indians  were  watching.  That  was  soon 
to  be  shown.  However,  calm  and  sweet  was  the  twi 
light  Gradually  the  western  glow  faded,  while  busily 
grazed  the  horses  and  mules.  The  men  lounged  about, 
and  contentedly  smoked  and  chatted.  To  and  fro 
paced  the  sentries.  The  stream  rippled.  Over  it  and 

125 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

over  the  wide  prairie  swooped  low  the  night-hawks. 
Scarcely  a  coyote  barked.  Even  the  general's  dogs 
found  nothing  to  do. 

At  dusk  the  animals  were  brought  in  close  and 
tethered  along  the  picket  ropes.  Stable  guards  were 
stationed  for  them.  At  half-past  eight  Ned  blew  the 
long  sweet  call  of  "  Taps."  The  notes  floated  musically 
over  the  wide  expanse.  Every  light  was  extinguished  ; 
and  amidst  the  loneliness  the  camp  of  the  Seventh 
Cavalry,  United  States  Army,  lay  down  to  sleep.  The 
white  tents  glimmered ;  the  horses  and  mules  snorted ; 
the  sentinels  paced  their  beats. 

In  his  tent  beside  the  adjutant's  Ned  was  wakened 
in  a  jump.  It  seemed  that  he  had  just  fallen  asleep — 
but  the  interior  of  the  tent  was  gray;  dawn  was  at 
hand.  The  smart  crack  of  a  carbine  was  echoing  in 
his  ears — and  now  he  heard  a  sharp,  excited  voice: 

"  They're  here !  "  That  was  Lieutenant  Custer, 
the  general's  brother,  rushing  past,  warning  the 
general.  He  was  officer  of  the  day.  And  out  rang 
a  perfect  volley  of  shots,  and  a  great  peal  of  shrill, 
savage  whoops. 

Grabbing  bugle  and  belt  Ned  dived  from  his  tent. 
He  was  in  time  to  witness  the  front  of  the  general's 
tent  burst  open,  like  a  paper  bag,  and  General  Custer 
come  bolting  through.  The  general  wore  a  bright 
red  flannel  night-gown — but  he  carried  in  his  hand  his 
Spencer  rifle.  He  was  ready  for  business, 

J26 


PAWNEE  KILLER  PLAYS  TRICKS 

On  ran  the  general,  toward  the  spot  of  the  firing 
and  the  shouting.  He  was  no  quicker  than  his  men; 
they  streamed  from  their  tents,  and  clad  in  shirts  and 
drawers,  but  bearing  cartridge-belts  and  carbines,  they 
rallied  to  the  defence.  Scarcely  any  orders  were 
necessary,  although  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer  and  all 
the  officers  were  there  to  give  them.  The  voice  of  the 
general  rose  high,  urging,  commanding,  cheering.  His 
red  flannel  night-shirt  flamed  hither  and  thither;  his 
long  bright  locks  tossed  like  a  mane ;  he  wore  no  shoes 
or  stockings.  Ned  saw  him  in  a  new  guise:  Old 
Curly,  the  fighting  Chief  with  the  Yellow  Hair. 

The  carbines  crackled,  as  in  irregular  line  the 
troopers,  lying  or  kneeling,  rapidly  fired.  Beyond, 
in  the  thin  morning,  the  Indians  dashed  swiftly  back 
and  forth.  From  the  soldiers  issued  jeers  and  threats 
and  challenges,  as  well  as  lead. 

"  I  got  one !  I  got  one !  "  yelped  the  lawyer  re 
cruit.  "  No ;  I  got  two !  There  goes  another  off  his 
horse!" 

"  Shut  up !  "  growled  Sergeant  Henderson.  "  Do 
you  think  that  every  time  you  fire  you  knock  over 
an  Injun?  They  only  hang  on  the  far  side  of  their 
horses,  lad !  " 

That  was  so.  At  the  discharges  from  the  carbines 
whole  squads  of  the  scampering  reds  seemed  to  be 
swept  from  their  saddles;  when,  no,  there  they  were, 
again,  upright,  and  gesturing  derision !  It  was  enough 

127 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

to  fool  any  white  man,  fighting  them  for  his  first 
time.  But  many  were  the  jokes  leveled  at  the  recruits, 
by  the  veterans  in  the  firing-line. 

However,  the  Indians  didn't  succeed.  There  must 
have  been  two  or  three  hundred  of  them,  attacking, 
while  about  fifty  tried  for  the  camp  horses.  They  had 
shot  the  picket.  He  was  lying  wounded.  He  would 
have  been  scalped  if  his  comrades  had  not  run  out 
and  dragged  him  in.  Softer  a  few  volleys  from  the 
Spencers  of  the  soldiers  the  red  enemy  retreated. 
They  could  be  seen  gathered  about  a  mile  away,  in 
council. 


IX 
DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 


IT    could    be    seen    that    General    Custer    was 

thoroughly  indignant.  But  first  he  must  ask  about 
the  wounded  picket,  who  proved  to  be  badly  hurt; 
not  fatally.  Then  he  must  change  his  night-gown 
for  a  more  practical  field  costume.  When  he  emerged 
from  his  tent,  he  was  again  ready  for  business. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  who  those  fellows  are,  and 
what  they  mean,"  he  denounced,  furiously,  among 
his  officers.  "  We've  done  nothing,  to  make  them 
attack  us.  Send  out  an  interpreter,  Moylan,  and  ask 
for  a  parley." 

The  Indians  were  still  collected,  upon  their  ponies, 
about  a  mile  distant.  Their  figures  showed  black  in 
the  dawn  brightening  across  the  vast,  boundless 
prairie.  Where  in  the  far  east  prairie  met  sky  was  a 
strip  of  glowing  pink. 

The  interpreter,  a  squaw-man  from  Fort  Mc- 
Pherson,  with  a  Sioux  wife,  rode  out  and  on  the  river 
bank  made  circles  with  his  horse.  This  signalled: 
"  We  want  to  talk."  One  of  the  Indians  answered 
with  the  same  sign,  and  a  part  of  them  came  forward. 
9  129 


"  Tell  them  that  seven  of  us  will  meet  seven  of 
them,  at  the  river,  for  a  talk,"  directed  the  general 
to  the  interpreter. 

Riding  forward  again  the  interpreter  cried  across 
the  space  to  the  Indians,  and  the  matter  was  quickly 
arranged. 

"  Captain  Hamilton,  you  will  assume  command 
here,"  directed  the  general.  "  Keep  the  men  under 
arms,  and  be  ready  to  move  forward  to  us  at  the  first 
signal  by  the  trumpeter.  Dr.  Coates,  you'd  better 
come  along  with  the  rest  of  us ;  you're  anxious  to  know 
the  Indians.  Moylan,  Thompson,  Tom  Custer,  Yates, 
Johnson.  Change  your  revolvers  from  your  holsters 
to  your  belts,  gentlemen.  Then  you  can  get  at  them, 
in  case  of  need.  Those  fellows  (and  he  jerked  his 
head  toward  the  Indians)  are  not  to  be  trusted, 
evidently." 

They  rode  away,  Ned  of  course  accompanying. 
From  the  opposite  direction  were  approaching  to 
meet  them  the  seven  chiefs.  The  river  was  the  con 
ference  point,  for  it  lay  about  in  the  middle  between 
the  two  parties.  Just  before  reaching  it  the  general 
halted,  and  dismounted.  Dismounted  all  except  Ned. 

"  Hold  these  horses,  orderly,"  instructed  the 
general,  to  Ned ;  "  and  watch  sharp.  Watch  the 
Indians,  especially,  and  at  the  least  trouble  or  any 
sign  of  treachery  you  blow  the  *  advance/  ' 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Ned. 

ISO 


DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

Surrounded  by  the  seven  horses  he  sat,  their  lines 
in  his  hands,  while  the  general  and  the  other  officers 
proceeded  on,  down  to  the  edge  of  the  water. 

The  banks  on  this  side  were  smooth  and  grassy; 
on  the  other  they  were  cut  by  arroyos  or  ravines  and 
grown  with  willows.  So  the  officers  waited,  for  the 
Indians  to  cross  to  the  open  side.  The  chiefs  also 
dismounted,  and  began  to  take  off  their  leggins,  to 
wade.  Through  the  shallow  current  they  boldly 
splashed,  holding  high  their  moccasins  and  guns,  out 
of  the  wet. 

"  Huh !  "  from  his  horse  suddenly  ejaculated  Ned, 
scarce  believing  his  eyes.  For  the  leading  chief  was 
Pawnee  Killer  himself! 

But  Pawnee  Killer  did  not  appear  at  all  abashed, 
nor  confused  by  the  fact  that  after  having  visited  the 
general  in  camp  at  Fort  McPherson  and  having 
promised  to  be  peaceable,  he  had  tried  here  to  steal 
the  column's  horses  and  to  rush  the  camp. 

"How?"  he  grunted,  shaking  hands  with  the 
officers.  fAnd  "  How?  "  grunted  in  turn  all  his  squad. 

They  were  well  armed.  Usually  in  a  conference 
weapons  are  left  behind;  but  this  was  a  conference 
with  the  weapons  ready.  Ned  sat  intent,  gazing  hard, 
to  catch  every  movement  of  the  seven  chiefs  and  also 
of  the  main  party,  at  the  distance.  He  could  not  hear 
much  of  what  was  being  said.  He  learned  afterward 
that  the  general  did  not  say  anything  about  the  attack 

131 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

on  the  camp,  but  wanted  to  know  about  the  village; 
and  that  Pawnee  Killer  did  not  say  anything  about 
the  village,  but  wanted  to  know  where  the  cavalry 
were  going.  And  neither  side  found  out  much  about 
the  other! 

While  Ned  was  peering,  and  waiting,  alert,  he  saw 
another  Indian  suddenly  step  forth  from  among  the 
willows,  and  cross  as  had  the  chiefs.  This  was  a 
younger  Indian,  fully  armed.  He  shook  hands  all 
around,  saying  "How?"  Scarcely  had  he  finished, 
and  the  talk  was  continuing,  when  yet  another  Indian 
crossed,  in  exactly  the  same  manner. 

Ned  fidgeted.  That  was  a  great  scheme:  for  the 
Sioux  warriors  to  steal  up,  through  the  ravines  and 
the  willows,  and  one  by  one  cross.  Pawnee  Killer 
could  not  think  very  highly  of  General  Custer's 
smartness,  if  he  supposed  that  these  additions,  one  at 
a  time,  were  not  noticed.  Because  the  general  was 
young  and  new  to  Indian  fighting,  and  had  been  lied 
to,  and  still  was  being  deceived,  apparently,  Pawnee 
Killer  must  consider  that  he  did  not  amount  to  much. 

Presently  two  more  Indians  had  crossed,  so  that 
now  there  were  eleven,  to  the  seven  whites.  Ned's 
heart  beat  rapidly.  The  situation  was  getting  serious. 
He  shifted  the  lines  of  the  horses,  so  as  to  use  his 
right  hand  to  raise  the  bugle  to  his  lips.  The  "  Ad 
vance"  repeated  itself  over  and  over  in  his  brain. 
But  listen!  General  Custer's  voice  rose  emphatic. 


CHIEF  THAT  IF  ANOTHER  MAN  OF  HIS  CROSSES  THE 
MY    MEN    WILL   ADVANCE  '' 


DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

"  Tell  this  chief  that  if  another  man  of  his  crosses 
the  river,  my  men  will  all  advance  ready  to  fight 
Tell  him  that  bugler  is  watching,  ready  to  blow  the 
signal." 

When  this  was  translated  to  Pawnee  Killer  (who 
had  understood  by  the  tone)  he  made  some  sort  of 
a  reply,  but  he  waved  his  hand  at  his  party,  signing* 
them  to  stay  back.  He  had  found  out  that  the  young 
white  chief  with  the  yellow  hair  was  not  such  a  fool, 
after  all. 

Then  the  conference  broke  up.  As  the  general 
and  the  other  officers  started  away,  Pawnee  Killer 
stretched  out  his  hand,  demanding  something.  The 
general  spoke  abruptly: 

"  No.  I  should  say  not.  Not  until  he  moves  his 
village  in  close  to  a  post,  as  he  promised."  And  re 
turned  to  mount  his  horse,  the  general  still  was  grum 
bling,  half  enraged,  half  amused.  "  Sugar,  coffee  and 
ammunition!  He's  the  most  consummate  rascal  I 
ever  met.  He  wants  us  to  feed  him  so  that  he  can 
follow  us,  and  equip  him  so  that  he  can  kill  us.  He 
ought  to  have  saved  some  of  the  ammunition  that  he 
used  on  us  so  recklessly  this  morning !  " 

Pawnee  Killer  and  his  chiefs  and  warriors  had 
gone  galloping  off,  and  soon  the  whole  party  were 
retreating  across  the  plains.  General  Custer  angrily 
ordered  "  Boots  and  Saddles,"  for  a  pursuit,  to  see 
where  the  village  lay.  But  Pawnee  Killer  was  again 
too  cunning  for  the  yellow  haired  general.  Away  went 

133 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

the  Sioux,  racing  freely;  after  them  pressed  the 
cavalry,  the  general  in  the  lead.  Had  all  the  cavalry 
horses  been  like  Phil  Sheridan  the  troops  might  at 
least  have  kept  the  Indians  in  sight;  as  it  was,  the 
lightly  laden  ponies  and  their  easy  riders  dwindled  and 
dwindled,  and  soon  disappeared  in  the  horizon.  So 
the  cavalry  must  quit,  before  getting  too  far  from 
camp. 

Now  more  Indians  were  sighted,  in  another 
direction. 

"  My  compliments  to  Captain  Hamilton,  and  tell 
him  to  take  his  troop  and  see  what  those  other  fellows 
are  up  to,"  ordered  the  general,  promptly,  to  Adjutant 
Moylan. 

Away  gladly  trotted  the  troop  of  young  Captain 
Hamilton,  whose  first  lieutenant  was  Colonel  Tom 
Custer.  With  two  such  officers,  this  was  a  crack  troop 
of  fighters.  Besides,  there  went  the  active  Doctor 
Coates,  also.  The  general  smiled. 

"  The  doctor's  bound  to  get  as  close  to  the  Indians 
as  he  can.  First  thing  we  know  he'll  join  a  tribe! 
Now,"  he  added,  gravely,  his  face  showing  anxious 
lines,  "  I  wish  we  knew  that  Elliot  was  all  right,  and 
was  getting  through  to  Sedgwick.  There's  the  chance 
that  the  Indians  don't  know  he's  gone.  His  escort 
is  so  small  he  can  travel  fast.  That's  one  comforE. 
Cook  and  Robbins  can  take  care  of  themselves,  pretty 
well,  as  long  as  their  escort  stays  together." 

Captain  Hamilton's  troop  had  been  swallowed  up 

134 


DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

among  the  swales  to  the  north ;  and  while  the  general 
and  his  staff  discussed  ways  and  means,  many  eyes 
were  directed  northward,  and  many  ears  were 
strained,  to  catch  any  token  of  a  fight  or  of  further 
pursuit. 

Nothing  came  back,  drifting  in  from  the  north 
ward.  The  general  and  the  adjutant  and  other  officers 
talked,  and  the  men  sat  more  at  ease,  and  the  minutes 
passed.  The  sun  was  high  in  the  east ;  a  strong  breeze 
blew  across  the  plains,  waving  the  longer  grasses. 
Then,  on  a  sudden,  there  was  thud  of  rapid  hoofs,  a 
panting  and  a  snorting,  and  almost  before  anybody 
could  turn  about,  into  the  camp  had  rushed,  at  top 
speed  of  his  horse,  Doctor  Coates.  Scarcely  drawing 
rein  he  fell  off,  rather  than  dismounted,  and  lay 
gasping,  trying  to  speak. 

To  him  rushed  officers  and  men. 

"What's  the  matter,  doctor?" 

"Hurt?" 

"  Speak,  man !  " 

"Can't  you  talk?" 

"Where's  Hamilton?" 

"Attacked?" 

The  doctor  nodded  violently. 

"  Boots  and  saddles,  there !  "  ordered  the  general, 
sharply.  "  Hurry,  men !  " 

Smartly  Ned  blew  the  call.  The  men  ran  hither, 
thither,  tugging  their  horses  into  line.  Now  the 
doctor  was  able  to  speak. 

135 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Indians !  Over  yonder !  Got  him — surrounded. 
Almost  got  me — too." 

"How  far?" 

"  About  five  miles." 

The  general's  voice  pealed  louder  than  Ned's 
trumpet. 

"  Prepare  to  mount — mount !  Fours  right,  trot — 
march!  " 

Out  from  camp  sallied,  at  brisk  trot,  the  remnants 
of  the  squadrons,  to  the  rescue  of  Captain  Hamilton 
and  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer  and  their  troop.  The 
doctor,  on  his  blown  horse,  acted  as  guide. 

There  was  no  sound  of  firing;  but  as  the  column 
pushed  on,  trying  to  make  best  speed  and  yet  save 
strength  for  the  fight,  the  doctor  explained. 

"  Indians  tolled  us  on,  then  separated.  Hamilton 
took  after  one  party,  Tom  after  other.  I  went 
with  Tom,  until  I  dropped  out  at  one  side,  somehow, 
while  I  was  looking  about.  Next  thing  I  knew  I  was 
lost.  Pretty  soon  I  heard  a  lot  of  firing,  and  when 
I  reconnoitered  I  saw  Hamilton's  detachment,  only 
half  a  -mile  away,  with  Indians  all  around  them. 
Thought  I'd  ride  right  through  and  help  him ;  but  the 
Indians  saw  me  first,  and  away  they  came,  six  or  eight 
of  'em,  making  for  me.  Almost  got  me,  too,  I  tell 
you!  Closed  up  within  arrow  range,  and  if  my  horse 
hadn't  been  as  frightened  as  I  was,  and  if  camp  hadn't 
appeared  just  when  it  did,  my  scalp  would  have  been 

136 


DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

gone.  I'm  afraid  Hamilton  is  in  a  bad  box.  They 
out-numbered  him,  and  had  plenty  of  ammunition." 

"  Tom  may  join  him." 

"  Yes,  if  Tom  isn't  in  the  same  fix.  Country  is 
full  of  Indians,  I  believe." 

Two  of  the  five  miles  had  been  put  behind.  It 
was  scarce  to  be  expected  that  carbine  shots  could  yet 
be  heard ;  but  nevertheless  the  silence  seemed  ominous, 
as  if  the  battle  might  be  over;  and  with  victory  to 
which  side? 

Trot,  trot;  jingle,  jingle;  across  the  grassy  plain, 
with  every  man  leaning  forward  in  his  saddle,  as  if 
to  get  there  sooner.  Then  Fall  Leaf,  the  Delaware, 
signaled  back,  from  a  little  rise :  "  People  in  sight." 
The  general  and  Adjutant  Moylan  clapped  their 
glasses  to  their  eyes,  and  forthwith  the  general  threw 
up  his  gauntleted  hand  in  gesture  of  relief. 

"  There  they  come,"  he  said.  "  Good !  I  see  the 
ttoop  guidon." 

Captain  Hamilton's  troop  it  was,  with  all  the  men 
uninjured,  and  with  only  one  horse  wounded.  Cap 
tain  Hamilton  reported  that  he  had  killed  two  war 
riors  and  had  driven  the  other  Indians  away,  without 
any  assistance  from  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer.  Lieuten 
ant  Tom  had  pursued  the  second  knot  of  Indians,  until 
after  they  had  drawn  him  far  enough  they  had  given 
him  the  slip.  These  Sioux  were  clever. 

Blood  had  been  shed.  This  was  war.  The  Indians 
now  would  be  hot  for  revenge.  And  Major  Elliot 

137 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

was  still  out,  and  so  was  the  wagon  train  for  Fort 
Wallace.  Returning  with  the  wagon-train  would  come 
Mrs.  Custer.  That  was  now  the  main  thought  in  the 
camp.  The  Indians  surely  would  not  miss  a  chance 
at  such  a  prize  as  wagons  of  supplies.  Why  had  the 
general  been  so  foolish  as  to  send  for  Mrs.  Custer, 
when  it  was  well  known  that  Indians  were  abroad? 

The  general  grew  haggard  all  in  an  hour.  Before 
night  he  had  sent  a  squadron  under  command  of 
Major  (who  was  a  lieutenant-colonel)  Myers,  to  push 
right  through  and  meet  the  train. 

Then  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait.  Three 
days  passed,  and  in  rode  the  little  party  of  Major 
Elliot,  with  the  dispatches  from  Fort  Sedgwick.  On 
the  next  day,  hurrah!  Here  approached,  weaving 
across  the  plain  like  a  huge  snake,  the  white-topped 
army  wagons  and  the  escort  troops. 

Out  rode  the  general,  to  meet  them;  and  particu 
larly  to  meet  Mrs.  Custer.  The  wagons  all  were 
there — twenty  of  them;  the  column  of  troops  looked 
intact;  but  from  the  wagons  or  from  horse  no  hand 
kerchief  waved  greeting,  and  Ned,  on  Buckie  thudding 
along  behind  the  general,  felt  a  sudden  cold  chill. 
What  if  anything  had  happened  to  the  sweet  Mrs. 
Custer,  or  to  Diana  of  the  dancing  curls? 

Major  (who  was  also  colonel)  West  was  in  com 
mand  of  the  column,  for  he  was  the  senior  officer. 

"  All  right,  colonel  ?  "  demanded  the  general,  his 
eyes  roving  anxiously  along  the  winding  line. 

188 


DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

"All  right,  general.  But  we  had  quite  a  brush. 
That  is,  Cook  and  Robbins  did.  Myers  and  I  arrived 
just  in  time  to  see  the  enemy  disappear." 

"  Mrs.  Custer  here  ?  "  queried  the  general,  sharply. 

"  No,  general.  She  didn't  leave  Hays,  fortunately. 
Cook  can  tell  you  about  it." 

Didn't  leave  Hays!  The  general  seemed  to  heave 
a  great  sigh  of  relief.  Camp  and  trail  were  no  places 
for  a  white  woman,  even  so  plucky  a  one  as  Mrs. 
Custer,  or  as  pretty  Diana.  He  dashed  along  the 
column,  seeking  Lieutenant  Cook. 

"  Well,  Cook !    Had  a  fight,  I  hear." 

"  Yes,  sir.  They  attacked  us  pretty  severely,  on 
our  way  out  from  Wallace,  before  West  and  Myers 
joined  us.  We  saw  them  coming,  and  formed  with 
the  men  on  foot  and  the  wagons  and  horses  in  the 
middle.  Then  we  kept  right  on  moving  forward,  but 
they  circled  us  savagely.  There  were  between  six 
and  seven  hundred  of  them,  weren't  there, 
Comstock  ?  " 

"  Fully  so,"  agreed  Scout  Will  Comstock,  who 
was  riding  near.  "  But  there  ain't  as  many  now, 
gen'ral.  We  toppled  five  of  'em  for  keeps,  an'  there's 
more  red  hides  that's  got  troublesome  holes  in  'em. 
But  it  looked  for  a  time  as  though  our  scalps  was  goin' 
to  pay.  Six  or  seven  hundred  Injuns  warn't  goin' 
to  let  fifty  men  stop  'em  from  gettin'  at  the  sugar  an' 
coffee  in  those  wagons." 

139 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"Mrs.  Custer  didn't  start,  then?"  asked  the 
general,  of  Lieutenant  Cook. 

"  No,  sir.  Thank  God  she  didn't.  She  was  ready 
to,  had  her  baggage  tied  up,  and  General  Hancock 
forbade.  I  don't  think  she  liked  that  very  well.  I 
have  a  letter  for  you  from  her." 

General  Custer  took  the  letter,  and  read  it  in  the 
saddle. 

From  the  talk  it  appeared  that  the  wagon-train 
had  fought  hard  and  well,  for  three  hours.  The 
wagons  were  scarred  with  bullets;  in  them  were 
several  wounded  men;  and  throughout  the  column 
were  a  number  of  wounded  horses  and  mules.  Ned 
heard  a  conversation  between  Lieutenant  Cook  and 
another  officer,  that  showed  how  serious  had  been  the 
situation. 

"  Would  you  have  done  it,  Cook  ? "  asked  the 
officer,  keenly. 

Lieutenant  Cook  firmly  nodded. 

"  I  should.  When  the  attack  developed  I  said  to 
myself,  at  once :  '  If  Mrs.  Custer  were  here,  in  my 
charge,  the  first  thing  I  must  do  would  be  to  ride  to 
her  ambulance  and  mercifully  shoot  her.  That  is  my 
solemn  promise  to  the  general.' " 

"  Whew !  "  sighed  the  other  officer,  gravely.  "  That 
would  be  horrible.  But  not  so  horrible,"  he  added, 
"  as  to  let  her  or  any  other  white  woman  fall  alive 
into  the  hands  of  the  Indians." 

140 


DANGER  ON  EVERY  SIDE 

"  We  promised  the  general,  in  regard  to  Mrs. 
Custer,"  said  the  lieutenant.  "  He  made  us  promise, 
and  he  knows  that  we  intended  to  keep  our  word." 

"  You'd  have  waited,  a  little?  "  pursued  the  officer. 

Lieutenant  Cook  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  sir.  Not  a  moment.  I  love  Mrs.  Custer  like 
a  sister;  and  the  thought  that  she  was  dependent  on 
me,  and  helpless  in  the  ambulance,  would  have  driven 
me  distracted.  I  should  have  obeyed  orders — and 
you  know  what  they  are.  Then  I  should  have  fought 
to  the  last,  and  should  not  have  expected  to  face  the 
general.  My  course,  first  and  last,  was  clear.  But  it 
didn't  come  necessary." 

A  Canadian  was  Lieutenant  William  Cook,  with 
long  black  side-whiskers  and  handsome  kindly  face. 
He  had  served  through  the  Civil  War,  and  was 
accounted  one  of  the  best  officers  in  the  Seventh.  By 
reason  of  his  birth  they  called  him  "  Queen's  Own  " 
Cook. 


THE  soldiers  who  had  fought  in  the  wagon-train 
swaggered  through  the  camp,  and  talked  much  like 
veterans.  The  camp,  also,  had  its  tales  to  tell,  of 
attack  and  scalps  and  victory.  So  that  the  Seventh 
Cavalry  had  made  a  start  on  the  battle-roll  to  be 
emblazoned  on  their  standards. 

Major  Elliott  had  brought  orders  from  General 
Sherman  to  march  north  again,  toward  the  Platte. 
The  Platte  was  struck  near  Riverside  stage  station,  in 
Colorado  fifty  miles  west  from  Fort  Sedgwick.  No 
Indians  had  been  sighted ;  but  Indians  were  still  around, 
for  the  very  evening  before  the  arrival  of  the  Seventh 
at  Riverside  the  hostiles  had  attacked  the  next  station 
west,  and  had  killed  three  men. 

But  this  was  not  all.  Evidently  something  else 
had  occurred.  Upon  reading  his  dispatches  from 
General  Sherman,  General  Custer  immediately  had 
sent  out  for  his  officers,  and  was  holding  a  consulta 
tion,  at  his  tent.  The  discussion  easily  reached  the 
ears  of  Ned,  standing  at  his  post,  ready  for  orders 
from  the  general  or  Adjutant  Moylan. 

1*2 


SAD  NEWS  FOR  THE  ARMY  BLUE 

Kidder — a  Lieutenant  Lyman  S.  Kidder,  Second 
Cavalry,  had  been  sent  out  from  Fort  Sedgwick,  with 
dispatches  for  the  Seventh  Cavalry  camp  at  the  Forks 
of  the  Republican.  He  had  only  ten  men,  he  ought 
to  have  arrived  there  or  else  have  overtaken  the 
column  before  it  reached  the  Platte.  But  he  had 
not  been  sighted.  He  was  a  young  officer,  this  was 
his  first  scout.  What  had  happened  to  him? 

Red  Bead,  a  friendly  Sioux  chief,  was  his  guide, 
so  he  could  not  have  lost  his  way;  but  upon  such  a  long 
ride  ten  men  were  altogether  too  few,  when  Indians 
by  the  hundreds  infested  the  whole  district 

Speedily  the  news  spread  through  the  ranks. 
There  was  shaking  of  heads.  In  the  opinion  of  the 
older  sergeants,  a  great  error  had  been  committed. 

"  My  idea  is,"  voiced  Henderson,  who  was  as 
level-headed  as  anybody,  "that  this  young  left'nant 
may  have  struck  our  camp;  but  if  he  did,  like  as  not 
he  took  the  wagon  trail  on  south'rd,  thinkin'  it  was  our 
trail.  In  that  case,  he'll  run  into  that  same  gang  o' 
reds  who  attacked  the  train  'twixt  the  Republican  and 
Wallace,  an'  they'll  wipe  him  out;  they'll  wipe  him 
out.  It  was  a  crime  to  send  him  on  the  scout  with 
scarce  a  dozen,  all  told,  in  his  party.  An'  him  new  to 
the  business,  too.  The  time  has  come  when  the  Army 
ought  to  know  it  can't  fight  Injuns  that  way.  They're 
better  armed  than  we  are,  an'  they're  mighty  smart, 
boys." 

143 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CtSTER 

The  suggestion  put  forth  by  Henderson  seemed  to 
be  that  of  the  council  of  officers  also. 

More  bad  news  was  received.  Cholera  had  broken 
out  at  Forts  Wallace  and  Hays,  and  scurvy  on  account 
of  the  bad  rations. 

Therefore  when  over  the  wire  the  Kidder  dis 
patches  were  repeated,  ordering  the  column  to  return 
to  Wallace,  very  ready  was  the  general  to  go.  Lieu 
tenant  Kidder  might  be  found,  and  Mrs.  Custer 
might  be  removed  to  safer  quarters.  So  camp  was 
broken  at  daylight. 

During  the  march  a  sharp  lookout  was  maintained 
for  sign  of  the  missing  Second  Cavalry  detachment; 
but  none  appeared. 

"What's  your  opinion  now,  Comstock?"  queried 
again  the  general,  anxiously,  as  at  the  head  of  the 
column,  where  rode  he  and  Adjutant  Moylan  and  Will 
Comstock,  he  scanned  the  ground  and  the  horizon. 
Will  Comstock  only  shook  his  head. 

"  I'm  not  sayin',  gen'ral,"  finally  He  replied.  "  It's 
'arly  yet  to  make  a  guess.  He  may  be  all  right — an* 
agin  he  may  not." 

The  Forks  of  the  Republican  came  into  sight;  and 
the  former  camping  place.  Here  were  the  tracks  of 
the  Seventh,  and  from  here  proceeded  the  trail  made 
by  the  wagon-train,  to  Fort  Wallace.  But  trace  of 
Lieutenant  Kidder,  or  of  any  new  horsemen,  could 
not  be  found,  even  by  the  Delawares  searching  so 
keenly. 

144 


SAD  NEWS  FOR  THE  ARMY  BLUE 

About  the  headquarters  camp-fire,  that  night, 
Scout  Will  Comstock  at  last  did  speak,  more  definitely, 
but  still  dubiously.  And  the  officers  listened  eagerly. 

"  Well,  gentle-men,"  drawled  Comstock,  "  before 
a  man  kin  form  any  ijee  as  to  how  this  thing  is  likely 
to  end,  thar  are  several  things  he  ort  to  be  acquainted 
with.  For  instance,  now,  no  man  need  tell  me  any 
p'ints  about  Injuns.  Ef  I  know  anything,  it's  Injuns. 
Z  know  jest  how  they'll  do  anything  an'  when  they'll 
take  to  do  it;  but  that  don't  settle  this  question,  an' 
I'll  tell  you  why.  Thar's  more'n  jest  Injuns  con- 
sarned  in  the  matter.  Ef  I  knowed  this  young 
lootenint — I  mean  Lootenint  Kidder — ef  I  knowed 
what  for  sort  of  a  man  he  is,  I  could  tell  you  mighty 
near  to  a  sartinty  what  he  did  an'  whar  he  went;  for 
you  see  Injun  huntin'  an'  Injun  fightin'  is  a  trade 
all  by  itself,  an'  like  any  other  bizness  a  man  has  to 
know  what  he's  about.  I  have  lots  of  confidence  in 
the  fightin'  sense  of  Red  Bead  the  Sioux  chief,  who 
is  guidin'  the  lootenint  an'  his  men,  an'  ef  that  Injun 
kin  have  his  own  way  thar's  a  fair  show  for  his 
guidin'  'em  through  all  right.  But  is  this  lootenint 
the  kind  of  a  man  who  is  willin*  to  take  advice,  even 
ef  it  does  come  from  an  Injun?  My  experience  with 
you  army  folks  has  allus  been  that  the  youngsters 
among  ye  think  they  know  the  most,  an'  this  is 
partic'larly  true  ef  they  have  jest  come  from  West 
P'int.  Ef  some  of  them  young  fellers  knowed  half  as 
much  as  they  b'lieve  they  know,  you  couldn't  tell  'em 

10  145 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

nothin'.  As  to  rale  book-rarnin',  why,  I  s'pose  they've 
got  it  all;  but  the  fact  of  the  matter  is,  they  couldn't 
tell  the  dif'rence  'twixt  the  trail  of  a  war  party  an' 
one  made  by  a  huntin'  party  to  save  their  necks.  Half 
of  'em  when  they  fust  come  here  can't  tell  a  squaw 
from  a  buck,  jest  'cause  both  ride  astraddle;  but  they 
soon  1'arn.  I'm  told  this  lootenint  we're  talkin'  about 
is  a  new-comer,  an'  that  this  is  his  fust  scout.  Ef 
that  be  the  case,  it  puts  a  mighty  onsartin  look  on 
the  whole  bus'ness,  an'  twixt  you  and  me,  gentle-w^w, 
he'll  be  mighty  lucky  ef  he  gets  through  all  right. 
Tomorrer  we  strike  the  Wallace  trail,  an'  I  kin 
mighty  soon  tell  ef  he  has  gone  that  way." 

This  speech,  so  lengthy  for  the  usually  silent  Will 
Comstock,  made  everybody  feel  more  anxious  than 
ever.  Evidently  the  scout  had  his  great  fears,  which 
he  had  tried  to  keep  to  himself. 

Therefore,  with  dawn  all  were  alert  to  strike  the 
wagon-trail  to  Fort  Wallace.  Comstock  and  the 
Dela wares  forged  ahead,  to  examine  it  first  before 
the  cavalry  column  should  mark  it  up.  The  general 
and  his  staff  urged  forward,  to  get  the  report. 

"  Well,  Comstock.  Have  they  passed  ?  "  queried 
the  general,  reining  short. 

Comstock  had  been  on  foot,  peering  closely.  The 
Delawares  and  he  seemed  to  have  agreed,  for  now 
he  remounted. 

"  Yes,  sir.  They've  gone  toward  Wallace,  sure." 
he  said,  soberly.  "  They've  mistook  this  here  trail 

146 


SAD  DAYS  FOR  THE  ARMY  BLUE 

for  the  main  trail  of  the  column.  The  trail  shows 
that  twelve  American  horses,  shod  all  'round,  have 
lately  passed  at  a  walk,  in  direction  of  the  fort.  When 
they  come  by  this  p'int  they  were  all  right,  'cause  their 
hosses  were  movin'  along  easy,  an'  there  are  no  pony 
tracks  behind  'em,  as  would  be  the  case  ef  Injuns 
had  got  an  eye  on  'em."  Comstock  rubbed  his  cheek, 
dubiously.  "  I  niought  as  well  say  that  in  my  opinion, 
gentle-mew,  it'll  be  astonishin'  ef  that  lootenint  an'  his 
lay-out  gets  into  the  fort  without  a  scrimmage.  He 
may,  but  ef  he  does,  it'll  be  a  scratch  ef  ever  thar  was 
one,  an'  I'll  lose  my  confidence  in  Injuns." 

That  sounded  bad.  It  was  only  two  days'  march 
to  the  fort,  but  what  would  those  two  days  uncover? 

"  We'll  soon  know,  then,"  spoke  the  general.  "  Let 
us  hope  that  if  they  did  reach  the  fort,  they  didn't 
attempt  to  return  and  hunt  us  further,  and  that  we'll 
find  them  there.  You  and  the  Delawares  watch  close, 
Will,  to  catch  any  sign  of  their  having  left  the  trail, 
at  either  side." 

Comstock  nodded. 

Still  the  plains  stretched  lonely  and  unbroken,  with 
never  a  sight  of  moving  figure  save  occasional  rabbit 
or  wolf.  Then,  toward  noon,  at  last  something  did 
appear — a  white  object,  dotting  the  trail  a  mile  in 
advance".  A  skeleton?  A  tent?  A  patch  of  alkali? 
At  every  guess  Comstock,  gazing,  shook  his  head ;  and 
even  the  Delawares  were  mystified. 

But  General  Custer  never  delayed. 

147 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"Come  on,"  he  bade.  "Let's  look  into  that" 
And  away  he  galloped,  with  Adjutant  Moylan  and 
Major  Elliot  and  Major  West  and  a  couple  of  other 
officers,  the  scouts,  and  Ned  faithfully  following. 
Where  went  the  general,  went  he,  the  orderly. 

"  It's  a  hoss !  A  dead  hoss,  gentle-men"  pro 
nounced  Comstock,  before  they  were  more  than  half 
way.  The  general  did  not  pause  to  level  his  glasses 
again;  Comstock's  word  was  enough. 

Sure  enough,  a  horse  it  was;  a  white  horse,  lying 
stiff  and  bloody  in  the  trail,  with  a  bullet-hole  through 
its  head. 

"  A  cavalry  horse,'*  exclaimed  the  general,  quickly. 
"  There's  the  U.  S.  on  its  shoulder,  and  saddle  marks 
on  its  back." 

"  It's  out  of  the  Second  Cavalry,  too,  general," 
added  Major  Elliot.  "  When  I  was  at  Sedgwick 
I  noticed  a  full  company  mounted  on  white  horses." 

"  Do  you  see  any  Indian  sign,  Comstock  ? — As 
to  who  did  this  ?  Or  whether  there's  been  a  fight  ?  " 
demanded  the  general. 

Scout  Comstock  and  the  Delawares  examined  the 
carcass,  and  the  ground  around-about,  for  token  of 
arrow  or  cartridge-shells  or  pony  tracks;  but  they 
could  find  nothing.  The  horse  had  been  shot  and 
stripped;  that  was  all. 

"  Then  there's  the  chance,  isn't  there,"  proposed 
Major  Elliot,  "  that  the  animal  may  have  dropped 

148 


SAD  NEWS  FOR  THE  ARMY  BLUE 

out,  and  that  they  shot  him  and  took  his  saddle  and 
bridle  to  prevent  the  Indians  making  use  of  him?  " 

"  We  must  hope  so,"  answered  the  general. 

Yes,  they  all  hoped  so;  but  presently,  on  the 
march,  Comstock  spoke,  from  where  he  was  skirting 
the  wagon-trail. 

"  There's  somethin'  wrong,  sure,  gen'ral.  Now 
we're  diskiwerin'  signs  that  talk.  This  here  party 
we're  follerin'  has  quickened  up  an'  spread  out  more 
irregular,  so  they're  on  both  sides  the  trail,  as  well 
as  in  it." 

"  And  there's  another  dead  horse,  isn't  it  ?  "  di 
rected  Major  Elliot. 

Yes,  a  second  dead  white  horse  awaited,  just 
ahead ;  shot  in  the  trail,  and  stripped,  like  the  first. 

"  Pony  tracks,  too,  gentle-w^w/'  announced  Com 
stock,  the  moment  that  he  scanned  the  ground  about. 
"  It's  Injuns.  I  knowed  it.  An'  the  very  wust  place 
for  attack,  too.  Nothin'  but  level  ground,  whar  they 
kin  circle  an'  shoot  an'  t'other  party  can't  find  shelter, 
to  make  a  stand.  Shod  hosses  are  movin'  at  a  full 
gallop,  now ;  so  are  ponies.  This  lootenint  an'  his  men 
are  ridin'  hard  for  kivver.  That's  plain." 

"Would  they  make  it,  do  you  think?" 

"  Wall,"  said  Comstock,  again  dubious,  "  it's 
doubtful.  Tryin'  to  run  away  from  a  big  party  of 
Injuns,  in  open  country,  is  dangerous  matter — 'spe 
cially  if  you  depend  on  speed  alone.  I  take  it  this 
lootenint  was  ridin'  an'  not  fightin' ;  an'  fust  thing  he'll 

149 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

know  he'll  be  surrounded,  with  his  hosses  all  tuckered 
out." 

The  pony  tracks  extended  far  on  either  side  of  the 
trail,  showing  that  the  Indians  had  been  in  large 
numbers.  However,  no  more  dead  horses  were  found, 
nor  any  other  sign  of  damage;  and  Ned  began  to  hope, 
again,  that  the  lieutenant  and  his  men  had  escaped, 
after  all.  Nevertheless,  it  was  still  forty  miles  to 
Fort  Wallace;  a  long,  long  way  in  a  ride  for  life. 

Suddenly  the  level  country  dropped  away  into  a 
wide  valley,  through  which  flowed  a  creek  marked 
by  a  border  of  willows  and  high  weeds.  No  doubt 
this  sight  had  cheered  the  fleeing  lieutenant  and  his 
party ;  for  in  the  willows  they  might  make  a  stand. 

"  That's  Beaver  Creek,  gentle-men/'  informed 
Comstock.  "  Whar  the  trail  crosses  we're  liable  to 
find  out  a  good  deal  of  what  we  don't  yit  know.  But 
there's  no  fightin'  goin'  on  down  there  now;  that's 
sartin." 

No;  no  sound  of  battle  rose  to  the  valley's  rim; 
and  neither  did  any  smoke  of  camp  or  of  signal  up- 
well.  All  was  silence;  utter  silence.  As  they  rode 
down  the  slope,  and  the  stream  itself  was  yet  a  mile 
away,  General  Custer  pointed,  without  speaking.  Off 
to  the  left,  and  ahead,  several  black  buzzards  were 
circling  lazily  and  low. 

"Whew!"  exclaimed  Comstock.  "Smell  it?  I 
reckon,  gentle-w^n,  that  tells  the  story.  Let's  go  over 
there." 

150 


SAD  DAYS  FOR  THE  ARMY  BLUE 

The  air  was  thick  with  rank  odor  of  decaying  flesh. 
General  Custer  and  his  staff  turned  aside,  following 
the  scouts,  to  search  for  the  source.  It  might  be  only 
dead  buffalo;  but  probably  it  was ? 

The  brush  and  grass  were  high;  at  the  edge  Ned 
halted ;  he  would  let  the  others  enter ;  he  was  a  soldier, 
but  he  would  rather  stay  where  he  had  stopped.  They 
did  not  require  him;  of  course  they  didn't.  The 
Delawares,  and  Will  Comstock,  and  the  officers,  rode 
back  and  forth.  It  was  only  after  a  long  time  that, 
on  a  sudden,  General  Jackson,  Fall  Leaf's  nephew, 
gave  a  loud  shout ;  and  instantly  he  was  off  his  horse 
and  stooping. 

He  had  found  something. 

The  general  and  all  the  officers  and  scouts 
hastened  to  him.  The  general  beckoned  for  the  men 
to  come.  Even  Ned  pushed  forward;  he  could  not 
help  himself,  for  he  feared  to  see  and  yet  he  wanted 
to  see. 

There  they  lay,  all,  white  horses  and  white  men 
and  one  red  man;  what  was  left  of  them  after  the 
enemy  had  taken  vengeance.  It  was  not  a  peaceful 
sight,  for  the  bodies  bristled  with  arrows,  shot  in 
and  left,  and  knife  and  tomahawk  had  cruelly  gashed. 
But  there  were  many  empty  cartridge  shells,  showing 
that  Lieutenant  Kidder  and  his  little  command  had 
fought  desperately  and  bravely. 

"  Surrounded  an'  cut  off.  I  knowed  they'd  be," 
declared  Comstock.  "  The  Injuns  got  here  fust,  like 

151 


as  not.  Sioux.  Know  why?  'Cause  while  they  scalped 
Red  Bead  they  didn't  take  his  scalp  away.  There  'tis, 
lying  beside  him.  It's  agin  Injun  rules  to  bear  off 
scalp  of  one  of  their  own  tribe.  So  these  must  have 
been  Sioux,  same  as  Red  Bead.  Pawnee  Killer's  band, 
like  as  not." 

That  terrible  Pawnee  Killer! 

"Which  is  the  lieutenant,  I  wonder?"  mused  the 
general.  "  Have  you  found  any  marks  that  tell, 
Comstock  ?  " 

"  Not  a  one.  No,  sir ;  I  doubt  if  even  his  own 
mother  could  pick  him  out." 

That  was  so.  .Only  Red  Bead  could  be  recognized. 
All  the  others  were  stripped  of  their  clothing,  and 
were  so  hacked  about  the  face  that  scarcely  a  feature 
was  left.  Fall  Leaf  the  Delaware  bent  and  pointed 
at  something.  It  was  a  black-and-white  checked 
collar-band  still  encircling  a  neck.  That  was  all. 

After  a  mournful  shuddering  survey  of  the  bloody 
field,  the  soldiers  of  the  Seventh  could  only  dig  a 
trench  and  gently  place  therein  these  remains  of  young 
officer,  his  brave  men,  and  his  faithful  Sioux  guide. 


XI 
GRIM  DAYS  ALONG  THE  TRAIL 


WHEN  on  the  third  day  into  the  outskirts  of 
Fort  Wallace  rode  with  their  melancholy  news  the 
returning  column,  they  found  the  little  post  hard- 
put.  Sacks  of  sand  had  been  piled  up  for  additional 
barricades;  mounds  of  earth  betokened  dug-outs. 
Twice  the  Indians  had  attacked  it.  Yes,  the  Chey- 
ennes  under  Chief  Roman  Nose  had  insultingly  can 
tered  up,  and  when  boldly  had  out-charged  the  two 
small  companies  of  the  Seventh,  led  by  Captain 
'(Colonel)  Alfred  Barnitz,  they  were  met  by  a  counter 
charge  from  the  Indians.  Only  after  a  hand-to-hand 
fight  were  Roman  Nose's  warriors  at  last  driven  off. 
Sergeant  Anderson  thought  that  he  had  wounded 
Roman  Nose.  Half  a  dozen  negro  soldiers,  on  out 
post  picket  duty,  had  dashed  forward,  waiting  no 
orders,  in  a  wagon,  to  help  the  cavalry;  and  the  fort 
officers  were  loud  in  their  praise  of  the  act. 

So  poor  little  Fort  Wallace,  alone  amidst  the  burn 
ing  or  freezing  plains,  last  post  of  the  line  to  protect 
the  road  to  Denver,  was  in  sore  straits. 

153 


The  telegraph  was  two  hundred  miles  east,  at  Fort 
Harker;  even  the  stages  had  stopped  running,  save 
at  long  intervals,  in  pairs,  when  a  guard  of  soldiers 
could  be  furnished;  dispatches  and  supplies  had  been 
interrupted.  Now  the  bad  rations  were  rapidly  grow 
ing  worse,  and  scurvy  and  cholera  were  aiding  the 
Indians.  The  scurvy  was  caused  by  lack  of  fresh 
meat  and  of  vegetables;  none  of  the  doctors  knew  just 
why  the  cholera  appeared ;  it  seemed  to  come  from  the 
heat  and  the  ground. 

The  condition  of  plucky  Fort  Wallace  worried  the 
general  much.  Succor  must  be  brought  in,  of  course. 
His  own  column  had  arrived  pretty  much  exhausted 
by  long  marches ;  but  he  decided  to  take  one  hundred 
of  the  better  mounted  men  and  make  a  forced  march 
to  Fort  Harker,  for  supplies.  Captain  Barnitz  had  not 
been  able  to  spare  any  men  for  that  purpose. 

To  Ned  this  was  the  most  exciting  march  yet.  It 
must  be  made  mainly  at  night,  for  coolness  and  to 
evade  the  Indians.  All  the  stage  route  from  Wallace 
to  Harker  was  said  to  be  closely  watched  by  the  Chey- 
ennes  and  Sioux.  The  stations  were  abandoned;  or 
else  the  men  had  collected  in  their  dug-outs,  entered 
by  underground  passages  from  the  station-house  or 
the  stable. 

To  approach  these  dug-outs,  especially  at  night, 
was  no  pleasant  matter.  The  first  appeared  as  only  a 
low  mound  of  earth  dimly  outlined  against  the  dusky 

154 


horizon.  In  fact,  the  scouts  must  get  off  their  horses 
and  stoop  against  the  ground,  to  see  it.  On  slowly 
filed  the  column — and  as  the  next  thing  that  happened, 
out  from  the  mound  spurted  a  jet  of  fire — another — 
two  more ;  and  to  "  Crack !  Bang-bang !  Crack !  " 
bullets  hummed  viciously  past  the  general,  and  Cap 
tain  Hamilton  (who  commanded  the  column),  and 
Ned  himself. 

"  What's  the  matter  there?  "  sung  out  loudly  the 
general  and  the  captain.  "  We're  friends !  White 
men !  Cavalry !  " 

"Bang!    Bang-bang!    Crack!*'    And  more  bullets. 

"  Get  your  men  out  of  here  quick,  captain.  Those 
fellows  are  crazy,"  directed  the  general.  "  Send 
somebody  forward  to  parley,  and  tell  'em  who  we  are." 

Lieutenant  Tom  Custer  volunteered. 

"  You'd  better  crawl,"  advised  the  general. 

Colonel  Tom  advanced,  in  the  dusk,  toward  the 
low  mound  beside  the  station  buildings.  Presently  he 
had  disappeared;  he  was  crawling.  "  Bang!  "  greeted 
him  a  shot. 

"Hello!"  he  hailed.  "Don't  shoot.  We're 
cavalry,  I  tell  you." 

"  Come  in  close  then;  stand  up  an'  show  yourself, 
if  you're  white,"  retorted  a  voice. 

"  I'm  coming,"  answered  Tom.  "  I  'm  Lieutenant 
Custer  of  the  Seventh." 

The  lieutenant  arrived,  and  the  column,  listening, 

155 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

could  hear  him  earnestly  explaining.  Now  from  the 
dug-out  a  light  flickered,  and  the  lieutenant  shouted 
to  the  column  to  come  on. 

The  dug-out  held  five  station-men.  They  were 
waiting,  on  the  outside,  and  even  in  the  starlight  they 
were  sombre-eyed  and  haggard. 

"  What's  the  meaning  of  this,  sirs?  "  demanded  the 
general,  angrily. 

"  Well,  cap'n,  you  see  it's  this  way,"  explained 
the  leader,  a  huge  man  with  great  full  beard  reaching 
to  his  waist.  "  We  thought  you  was  Injuns,  an'  we 
ain't  takin'  any  chances,  these  days." 

"  But  you  heard  us  hail  you  in  good  English." 

"  Certain  we  did ;  but  that  didn't  prove  much. 
No,  sir-ee.  There  are  Injuns  who  speak  as  good 
English  as  you  do,  an'  that's  one  o'  their  latest  tricks. 
They're  up  to  every  sort  o'  scheme,  cap'n;  an'  while 
we're  sorry  to  shoot  at  you,  lettin'  strangers  get  near 
at  night  is  too  risky  a  matter.  Speakin'  English  don't 
count  with  us  fellows.  We're  on  to  that  Injun  trick." 

Therefore  every  occupied  stage  station  must  be 
approached  with  great  caution.  Besides  the  station 
dug-outs,  the  negro  infantry  posted  in  squads  along 
the  route  to  protect  it  had  their  dug-outs,  too.  These 
were  of  a  more  military  nature  than  the  station  dug 
outs,  and  were  styled  "  monitors,"  after  the  Monitor 
which  fought  the  Merrimac,  during  the  Civil  War. 

The  negro  squads  first  dug  out  a  square  hole  about 

156 


GRIM  DAYS  ALONG  THE  TRAIL 

breast  deep,  and  large  enough — say  fifteen  feet  or 
more  square — to  hold  them  all.  About  the  rim  they 
piled  up  the  dirt  and  sod ;  and  from  side  to  side  they 
laid  a  roof  of  planks  covered  with  more  sod.  Then 
they  cut  small  loop-holes  in  the  low  walls,  and  ran  a 
tunnel  out  a  short  distance,  with  a  trap  door.  And 
they  were  well  fixed.  They  could  not  be  touched  by 
fire  or  arrow  or  bullet. 

These  queer  fortifications,  like  huge  squat  mush 
rooms  upon  the  flat  surface  of  the  bare  prairie,  did 
indeed  resemble  a  "  cheese-box  on  a  raft."  At  one  of 
them,  when  the  column  arrived,  the  five  negro  soldiers 
under  a  corporal  were  bubbling  with  glee. 

"  Yes,  suh,"  narrated  the  corporal,  to  the  general 
and  anybody  else  who  could  hear,  "  we  done  had  a 
fight.  But  'twarn't  a  fight;  it  was  jes'  a  sort  o' 
massacree.  After  we  got  this  heah  monitor  'bout 
finished,  a  whole  lot  o'  Injuns  come  ridin'  along. 
Reckon  dey  must  have  been  five  hunderd  or  five  thou 
sand.  Fust  t'ing  dey  see,  dey  see  dis  ol'  hump  a 
stickin'  up.  Don't  know  what  it-all  means.  No,  suh. 
Got  mighty  curyus.  We-all  lay  low,  an'  let  'em  look 
an'  talk.  Dey  got  so  curyus  dey  couldn't  hold  off 
any  longer,  so  dey  rode  in,  cranin'  an'  stretchin'  laike 
chickens.  When  dey  come  right  close,  t  Gin  it  to 
'em !  "  say  I.  '  Gin  it  to  'em ! '  An'  we  did  gin  it  to 
'em,  out  the  loop-holes.  We  gin  it  to  'em,  an'  when 
dey  skadoodled  we  gin  it  to  'em  some  more,  an'  kep' 

157 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

ginnin'  it  to  'em  till  dey's  out  o'  range.    Hi-yah-yah! 
Dey  shore  was  scared." 

And — "  Hi-yah-yah !  "  shouted  in  laughter  his  five 
privates. 

"  Good !  "  praised  the  general.  "  How  many  did 
they  leave  on  the  field,  corporal  ?  " 

"  Well,  dey  didn't  leab  no  one  on  the  field, 
gin'ral,"  answered  the  corporal.  "  But  I  reckon  we 
mus'  have  killed  Txmt  half,  an*  other  half  was  nigh 
scyared  to  deff." 

The  general  was  in  a  great  hurry  to  reach  Fort 
Hays,  where  (as  all  supposed)  was  Mrs.  Custer;  and 
to  reach  Fort  Harker,  where  could  be  obtained  the 
medicines  and  the  food  for  suffering  Fort  Wallace. 

At  Fort  Hays  was  found  no  Mrs.  Custer,  or  Miss 
Diana,  or  black  Eliza.  But  all  heard  about  a  sudden 
flood  from  Big  Creek  which  had  drowned  several 
soldiers  and  had  almost  swept  away  the  tent  and  the 
women  together;  after  that,  the  general's  household 
had  been  sent  back  to  Fort  Harker,  because  Hays  was 
not  considered  safe  for  them.  Here  at  Hays  were 
waiting  letters  from  Mrs.  Custer,  and  the  word  that 
at  Harker  the  cholera  was  raging  deadly. 

Now  the  general  was  much  alarmed;  and  leaving 
Captain  Hamilton  and  the  company  to  rest  a  day  at 
Hays,  with  Lieutenant  Cook  and  Captain  Tom 
Custer  and  Ned  and  two  soldiers  he  pushed  on  for 
Harker.  The  march  from  Wallace  to  Hays,  150 

158 


GRIM  DAYS  ALONG  THE  TRAIL 

miles,  had  been  made  in  fifty-five  hours;  the  ride 
from  Hays  to  Harker,  sixty  miles,  was  made  in  eleven 
and  a  half  hours — which  was  pretty  good,  considering 
the  long  ride  that  had  preceded. 

Mrs.  Custer  was  not  at  Harker.  She  and  Miss 
Diana  and  Eliza  had  been  forwarded  on  to  Riley, 
for  Harker  was  no  place  in  which  to  stay.  So  from 
Harker  the  general  also  hastened  to  Riley — but  Ned 
did  not  go.  Suddenly  he  felt  ill ;  and  the  surgeon  said 
that  he  had  the  cholera. 


XII 

PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 


NED  was  a  very  ill  boy;  but  from  the  hospital  at 
Fort  Riley  he  was  able  to  accompany  his  regiment  to 
Fort  Leavenworth.  Here  they  comfortably  spent  the 
winter.  Of  many  finely  constructed  buildings,  in  the 
midst  of  a  one-thousand-acre  military  reservation 
overlooking  the  Missouri  River,  near  to  the  bustling 
city  of  Leavenworth,  with  its  cavalry  and  infantry  and 
artillery,  Fort  Leavenworth,  headquarters  post  of  the 
Department  of  the  Missouri,  was  a  decided  change 
from  Wallace  and  Hays  and  Harker  and  even  Fort 
Riley. 

The  fall  and  winter  were  quiet,  while  out  on  the 
southwest  plains  a  Government  Peace  Commission 
made  a  new  treaty  with  the  tribes.  The  Cheyennes 
were  still  angry  because  General  Hancock  had  de 
stroyed  their  village;  but  all  agreed  to  go  upon  a 
reservation  in  Indian  Territory,  and  to  let  the  rail 
roads,  the  trails  and  the  settlers  alone. 

In  the  spring  another  treaty  was  made  at  Fort 
Laramie,  in  the  north,  with  the  Sioux.  The  Govern 
ment  promised  to  withdraw  its  soldiers  from  the 
Sioux'  hunting  grounds  of  the  Powder  River  Valley 
east  of  the  Big  Horn  Mountains  in  northeastern 

160 


PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

Wyoming  and  southeastern  Montana.  To  protect  these 
their  last  hunting  grounds,  of  the  famous  Black  Hills 
country,  Red  Cloud  the  Sioux  chief  had  been  fight 
ing  long  and  hard. 

Speedily  they  sent  word  to  their  cousins  the  Chey- 
ennes,  Kiowas  and  all,  of  Nebraska,  Kansas  and 
Colorado,  encouraging  them  also  to  drive  out  the 
white  men.  Already  the  Cheyennes  and  Kiowas  and 
Comanches  objected  to  going  upon  their  reservation; 
they  said  they  had  not  understood  that  they  were  to 
give  up  good  land  for  poor  land. 

The  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad  had  reached  Hays 
City,  and  had  halted  there  as  if  to  rest.  The  doughty 
General  Hancock  had  been  changed  to  New  Orleans, 
and  as  commander  of  the  Department  of  the  Missouri 
had  been  succeeded  by  Major-General  Philip  H. 
Sheridan. 

Everybody  knew  Phil  Sheridan  the  fighting  Irish 
man.  He  visited  briefly  at  Fort  Leavenworth  in 
September  of  1867,  to  assume  command ;  and  here  Ned 
had  a  glimpse  of  him.  He  was  unlike  either  General 
Sherman  or  General  Hancock.  A  little  man  was 
Sheridan,  of  Irish  face,  close-cropped  grizzled  hair, 
keen  gray  eyes,  reddish  moustache  and  small  tuft  of 
hair  beneath  his  lower  lip.  With  his  slight  body,  full 
chest,  short  neck,  large  bullet  head,  and  aggressive 
manner,  he  resembled  a  lion.  He  was  the  man  who 
had  made  that  famous  "  Sheridan's  Ride  "  from  Win 
chester  to  Cedar  Creek,  in  the  Civil  War,  and  saved 

11  161 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

the  day  for  the  Union  Army.  He  had  been  General 
Custer's  commander. 

In  April  the  Seventh  was  ordered  back  to  Fort 
Marker,  to  be  on  hand  in  case  of  Indian  trouble.  But 
it  was  not  the  same  regiment;  for  it  lacked  General 
Custer. 

The  general  had  been  suspended  from  rank  and 
pay  for  one  year!  The  claim  was  made  that  he  had 
marched  his  men  too  hard  from  Wallace  to  Hays,  and 
that  he  had  absented  himself  from  Fort  Wallace  with 
out  leave,  to  go  to  Mrs.  Custer  at  Fort  Riley.  His 
friends  believed  that  he  was  innocent  of  any  misdoing ; 
but  his  jealous  enemies  triumphed,  and  the  War  De 
partment  had  disciplined  him. 

Nevertheless  he  had  spent  the  winter  at  Leaven- 
worth,  occupying  the  quarters  of  General  Sheridan 
himself.  One  good  thing  had  happened.  In  the 
fall  Mr.  Kidder,  father  of  the  slain  Lieutenant  Kidder 
of  the  Second  Cavalry,  had  appeared  at  Leavenworth, 
looking  for  his  son's  body.  General  Custer  spoke  of 
the  black-and-white  checked  collar-band,  upon  one  of 
the  bodies;  and  the  father  had  instantly  said  that  his 
son  had  worn  just  such  a  shirt,  made  for  him  by  his 
mother,  for  use  on  the  plains.  With  an  escort,  the 
father  had  hastened  on  to  the  Beaver  Creek  battle 
ground,  for  the  remains  of  his  dear  boy. 

Now  General  Custer  was  at  his  old  home  of  Mon 
roe,  Michigan,  to  spend  the  rest  of  his  term.  The 
Seventh  Cavalry  must  take  the  field  without  him. 


PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

And  much  it  missed  its  leader — the  dashing  Custer 
of  the  long  yellow  hair  and  the  crimson  tie  and  the 
buckskin  coat;  it  missed  his  horses  and  his  dogs  and 
his  enthusiasm;  it  missed  Mrs.  Custer. 

Ned  had  been  relieved  from  trumpeter  duties,  and 
was  taking  it  more  easy  as  clerk  in  the  quartermaster 
department.  His  post  was  made  Fort  Hays,  and 
here  he  was  when  his  regiment  arrived  to  camp  just 
outside. 

Fort  Hays  had  improved.  The  log  quarters  were 
giving  place  to  story  and  a  half  frame  houses,  painted. 
The  town  also  had  expanded.  The  coming  of  the 
railroad  had  made  it  grow  greatly,  although  it  was  not 
any  handsomer.  It  was  a  town  without  law  except 
the  law  of  rope  and  of  pistol.  Wild  Bill  Hickok  with 
his  two  ivory-handled  revolvers  and  his  steely  eyes 
and  his  quiet  manner  was  the  peace-maker;  but  in 
making  peace  men  frequently  were  killed. 

This  was  a  scout  headquarters.  Constantly  in  and 
out,  riding  the  trails,  was  Wild  Bill;  so  was  Will 
Comstock;  so  was  California  Joe  and  so  was  Pony 
Bill  Cody.  But  they  called  him  Pony  Bill  no  longer. 
He  was  now  Buffalo  Bill.  During  the  past  fall  he  had 
been  employed  in  supplying  buffaloes  to  feed  the 
laborers  on  the  Kansas  Pacific  survey.  By  the  amount 
of  buffalo  that  he  had  shot  he  astonished  everybody. 
In  a  friendly  contest  with  Will  Comstock  he  had  killed 
sixty-nine  to  Comstock's  forty-six — and  Comstock 
was  one  of  the  crack  hunters  of  the  plains, 

163 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CFSTER 

There  were  several  new  scouts,  too :  Sharpe  Grover 
and  Jack  Corbin  and  Dick  Parr  and  Jack  Stillwell 
and  Bill  Trudell;  all  good. 

During  the  spring  and  summer  the  railroad  pushed 
on  westward.  To  the  north  the  Sioux  were  quiet 
and  satisfied,  but  in  the  south  the  Kiowas  and 
Comanches  and  Arapahos  and  all  demanded  better 
terms,  and  guns  and  ammunition,  ere  they  went  upon 
their  reservation.  Scouts  Comstock  and  Grover  and 
Parr  were  employed  especially  to  visit  about  among 
the  tribes  and  explain  matters  and  urge  peace.  Lieu 
tenant  Fred  H.  Beecher,  a  nephew  of  the  great 
preacher  Henry  Ward  Beecher  of  New  York  City, 
directed  their  movements. 

This  seemed  like  a  very  good  scheme.     For 

"  In  my  opinion,  gentlemen,"  said  in  Ned's  hear 
ing  Wild  Bill,  "  it's  worth  a  lot  o'  trouble,  and  the 
Government  can  afford  to  give  in  on  a  few  points,  to 
keep  those  settlers  from  being  murdered,  who  are  out 
here  with  their  families,  trying  hard  to  build  up  the 
country.  If  we  can  only  hold  those  Injuns  off  till  fall, 
after  the  buffalo  season,  and  get  'em  on  their  reserva 
tion  for  the  winter,  we  can  then  watch  'em." 

From  Fort  Hays  the  Seventh  Cavalry  marched 
south,  in  early  summer,  to  join  with  some  of  the 
Tenth  Cavalry  and  the  Third  Infantry,  along  the 
Arkansas  River  near  Fort  Larned  and  Fort  Dodge. 
The  Indian  villages  were  still  in  this  vicinity,  and  the 
young  men  were  restless  and  full  of  threats.  General 


PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

Alfred  Sully,  who  had  fought  the  Sioux  in  Dakota 
in  1863,  was  in  command  down  here,  over  the  'Dis 
trict  of  the  Arkansas. 

Ned  was  retained  on  his  quartermaster  depart 
ment  detail;  but  he  was  growing  eager  to  take  the 
field  with  his  comrades. 

Affairs  seemed  to  be  shaping  all  right,  until  in 
July  arrived  at  Fort  Hays,  by  courier  from  Fort 
Larned,  word  that  the  warriors  were  leaving  the 
villages,  and  trailing  northward.  Quickly  following 
came  the  news  that  a  party  of  Cheyennes  had  raided 
the  friendly  Kaws,  or  Kansas  Indians,  near  Council 
Grove  south  of  Riley,  and  had  robbed  settlers. 

This  must  not  be  permitted,  for  the  United  States 
was  bound  to  protect  its  Indian  friends. 

The  Cheyennes  and  Arapahos  and  all  had  not  been 
given  the  guns  and  ammunition  promised  them  by  the 
treaty.  Now  it  was  time  for  the  annual  distribution 
of  gifts.  When  the  Comanches  and  the  Kiowas 
gathered  at  Fort  Larned  to  receive  them,  the  agent 
announced  that  they  could  have  no  rifles  or  pistols 
or  powder  and  lead  until  the  Kaws  and  the  settlers 
had  been  paid  for  the  damage  done  to  them. 

This  made  the  Indians  angry.  They  refused  all 
gifts,  and  returned  to  their  camp,  the  young  men 
began  to  war-dance. 

General  Sully  appeared  at  Fort  Larned,  and  pre 
pared  for  action.  But  Little  Rock,  Cheyenne  chief, 
claimed  that  only  some  bad  young  men,  on  an  expedi- 

165 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

tion  against  the  Pawnees,  had  robbed  the  Kaws  and 
the  settlers.  All  the  chiefs  promised  that  if  guns  and 
ammunition  were  issued,  so  that  their  people  might 
hunt  the  buffalo,  everything  would  be  quiet. 

"  No  more  trips  will  be  made  by  my  people  into 
the  settlements,"  assured  Little  Raven,  the  fat  old 
Arapaho  chief,  who  had  always  been  friendly  toward 
the  whites.  "  Their  hearts  are  good,  and  they  wish  to 
be  at  peace  forever." 

So  even  General  Sully  was  convinced,  and  ordered 
the  guns  and  ammunition  to  be  issued. 

"  The  gen'ral  ought  to've  known  better,  gentle- 
men,"  declared  Scout  Will  Comstock,  speaking  of  the 
matter  at  Fort  Hays,  where  he  had  arrived  on  an 
errand.  "  Those  Injuns  talked  'round  him.  One 
hundred  pistols,  eighty  rifles,  twelve  kegs  powder, 
half  a  keg  o'  lead,  fifteen  thousand  caps,  to  the 
'Rapahos ;  forty  pistols,  twenty  rifles,  three  kegs 
powder,  half  a  keg  o'  lead,  five  thousand  caps  to  the 
'Paches;  Cheyennes,  Comanches,  Kiowas — they're 
bein'  treated  the  same;  that's  the  case  to-day.  And, 
gentle-men/'  he  added,  impressively,  "  you  mark  my 
words.  We'll  hear  from  those  weepons  in  a  way  we 
won't  like.  I  know  Injuns.  Little  Raven  an'  Black 
Kettle  may  mean  all  right,  when  speakin',  but  they 
can't  control  their  bucks.  We'll  all  be  fightin'  those 
same  guns  before  the  buff'ler  turn  south." 

Now  August  had  set  in;  and  on  the  seventh  who 
should  arrive  at  the  post  of  Fort  Hays  but  a  large 

166 


PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

band  of  the  Indians  from  the  Arkansas.  They  had 
come  up  from  the  Pawnee  Fork  west  of  Fort  Larned, 
and  said  they  were  on  their  way  to  fight  the  Pawnees. 
There  were  four  or  five  Arapahos,  and  twenty  Sioux 
visitors  from  the  north,  and  200  Cheyennes.  Old 
Black  Kettle  the  Cheyenne  chief  was  leader;  other 
chiefs  were  Tall  Wolf  and  Red  Nose  and  Porcupine 
Bear  and  Bear  That  Goes  Ahead  (Cheyennes),  and 
even  a  son  of  Little  Raven  the  Arapaho  chief. 

That  night  they  held  a  big  powwow.  Black  Kettle 
shook  hands  with  all  the  soldiers  within  reach.  From 
beside  the  council  camp-fire  he  made  a  speech,  to 
say,  as  translated  by  Wilson  the  post  trader: 

"  The  white  soldiers  ought  to  be  glad  all  the  time, 
because  their  ponies  are  so  big  and  so  strong,  and  be 
cause  they  have  so  many  guns  and  so  much  to  eat. 
All  other  Indians  may  take  the  war  path,  but  Black 
Kettle  will  forever  keep  peace  with  his  white  brothers. 
He  loves  his  white  brothers,  and  his  heart  feels  glad 
when  he  meets  them  and  shakes  their  hands  in 
friendship." 

This  sounded  very  good,  for  the  whites ;  but  every 
body  knew  that  the  Black  Kettle  band  had  no  business 
going  out  to  fight  the  Pawnees  or  anybody  else.  If 
they  didn't  find  the  Pawnees,  then  they  might  try  to 
fight  whomever  they  met. 

Away  they  rode,  in  their  war-paint;  and  next, 
dreadful  tidings  came  back.  First,  into  Fort  Harker 
were  brought  by  their  husbands  two  white  women; 

167 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

almost  crazed  the  men  related  that  a  party  of  Chey- 
ennes  had  entered  their  ranch  house,  on  the  Saline 
River  north  of  Harker,  and  after  being  kindly  treated 
to  hot  coffee  and  sugar,  had  thrown  the  coffee  in  the 
women's  faces,  knocked  the  men  down,  and  abused 
all  terribly.  Two  other  white  men  had  been  killed 
in  the  fields  with  clubs ;  a  woman  had  been  killed,  and 
two  children  had  been  carried  away. 

This  was  the  news,  to  Hays  from  Fort  Harker. 
From  Fort  .Wallace,  in  the  other  direction,  came  word 
as  shocking.  Boyish  Scout  Will  Comstock  had  been 
murdered  by  friendly  Chief  Turkey  Leg's  Cheyennes  ; 
Sharpe  Grover,  his  companion,  had  been  desperately 
wounded. 

Some  of  the  young  Cheyennes  had  tried  to  trade 
with  Comstock  for  his  prized  revolver.  But  he  would 
not  trade.  It  was  the  same  revolver  that  he  promised 
to  give  to  General  Custer  as  soon  as  he  had  guided 
the  general  to  a  victory.  The  young  Indians  then  rode 
with  him  and  Grover  to  escort  them  from  the  village. 
Presently  they  dropped  behind,  did  the  Indians,  shot 
Will  Comstock  dead,  through  the  back,  and  almost 
killed  Grover.  But  from  shelter  of  his  chum's 
body,  with  his  long-range  rifle  Grover  fought  all  day. 
During  the  night  and  the  next  day  he  hid  in  a  ravine ; 
and  through  the  ensuing  darkness  he  crawled  and 
staggered  clear  to  Fort  Wallace,  where  he  gasped  out 
the  tale. 

Aye,  the  buffalo  had  not  turned  southward,  but 

168 


PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

already  were  Fort  Hays  and  the  other  white  stations 
of  the  southwest  hearing  from  the  guns  and  pistols 
issued  at  Fort  Larned.  From  the  Smoky  Hill  stage 
route  and  that  of  the  Santa  Fe,  from  the  Republican, 
the  Saline,  the  Arkansas  and  the  Cimarron,  at  last 
along  the  telegraph  line  passed  report  after  report, 
brought  in  by  settler  and  scout  and  courier,  telling  of 
onslaught  by  Cheyenne,  Kiowa  and  Comanche.  The 
town  of  Sheridan,  at  the  end  of  the  Kansas  Pacific 
Railroad,  only  fifteen  miles  from  Fort  Wallace,  an 
nounced  that  it  had  been  attacked  and  for  two  days 
kept  in  a  state  of  siege! 

Settlers  and  scouts  and  other  frontiersmen  began 
to  pour  into  Fort  Hays  and  Hays  City;  and  here 
arrived  General  Sheridan  himself — the  small-bodied, 
large-headed,  bristly  little  Irishman,  with  fire  in  his 
gray  eyes. 

"  This  is  war,"  Ned  heard  him  repeat.  "  We'll 
fight  them  to  a  finish.  The  only  way  to  control  them 
is  to  destroy  them  wherever  they  are  to  be  found, 
until  they  all  are  confined  on  a  reservation." 

Buffalo  Bill  Cody  had  been  assigned  to  the  quarter 
master  department  with  station  at  Fort  Larned.  Now 
one  day  he  came  riding  posthaste  into  Hays,  his  horse 
matted  with  sweaty  dust,  he  as  dusty  and  as  tired. 
He  bore  dispatches,  and  reported  that  all  his  route  of 
seventy  miles  had  been  infested  with  hostile  warriors. 

He  volunteered  to  return  at  once  over  the  same 
route,  with  dispatches  for  Fort  Dodge,  thirty  miles 

169 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

further.  Back  he  rode;  and  in  two  more  days  he  was 
at  Hays  again.  He  had  ridden  350  miles  in  fifty- 
five  hours.  He  stayed  at  Fort  Hays,  for  General 
Sheridan  promoted  him  to  be  Chief  of  Scouts  for  the 
Fifth  Cavalry. 

Buffalo  Bill's  last  dispatches  told  that  the  old  men 
and  squaws  left  in  the  villages  were  packing  the 
tipis  and  were  moving  south,  as  if  the  Indians  did  not 
intend  to  winter  on  any  reservation.  Evidently  the 
winter  villages  were  to  be  set  up  where  the  soldiers 
could  not  follow. 

From  General  Sheridan  went  quick  orders  to 
General  Sully  to  stop  the  Indians,  and  turn  them.  And 
as  the  soldiers  were  being  kept  busy,  in  the  south  and 
guarding  the  Smoky  Hill  trail,  to  protect  the  settlers 
northward  an  expedition  of  volunteers  was  ordered 
out. 

They  all  were  frontiersmen,  who  gladly  rallied 
to  fight  for  ranch  and  town.  Thirty  enlisted  at  Fort 
Harker,  seventeen  at  Fort  Hays.  General  George  A. 
Forsyth,  who  was  called  "  Sandy  "  and  was  colonel 
on  the  staff  of  General  Sheridan,  was  the  command 
ing  officer.  Lieutenant  Beecher  was  his  aide.  Dr. 
John  S.  Mooers  of  Kansas  City,  surgeon  in  the  Civil 
War,  was  medical  officer;  General  W.  H.  H.  McCall, 
of  the  Civil  War,  was  first  sergeant.  Sharpe  Grover 
(now  well  again)  was  the  guide;  Stillwell  and  Tru- 
dell  and  Dick  Parr  were  among  the  scouts. 

170 


PHIL  SHERIDAN  ARRIVES 

Ned  burned  to  go,  but  he  was  refused  because  of 
his  youth. 

"  You  wait,"  comforted  Jack  Stillwell — a  jaunty 
young  fellow,  with  waist  like  a  girl's  and  face  as 
smooth  as  Ned's  own.  "  There'll  be  plenty  left  for 
you  other  people,  soldiers  and  all,  to  do.  Wait  till 
Sheridan  gets  out  after  'em." 

"  Wall,  there  won't  be  as  many  as  there  are  now," 
remarked  significantly  Sharpe  Grover,  standing  near. 

In  truth  so  thought  Ned  when,  on  the  twenty- 
eighth  of  August,  out  from  Fort  Hays  rode  against 
the  Dog  Soldiers  raiding  the  settlements  the  little 
company  of  half  a  hundred — few  in  numbers  but 
every  man  a  skilled  shot.  They  were  well  armed 
with  Spencer  and  Henry  repeating  rifles,  and  had 
much  ammunition.  General  "  Sandy  "  Forsyth  and 
Sharpe  Grover  led. 

A  few  days  passed.  Ned  must  continue  with  his 
clerkship  duties — which,  of  course,  somebody  must 
perform,  even  in  war.  Soldiering  is  not  all  righting. 

Next,  was  it  learned  that  south  of  the  Arkansas 
General  Sully,  his  Seventh  Cavalry  and  his  Third 
Infantry,  had  almost  lost  their  wagon-train  and  had 
been  driven  back  into  Fort  Dodge!  One  trooper  had 
been  captured  by  the  Indians  (poor  fellow,  Ned  knew 
him  well)  and  carried  off  to  be  tortured  to  death. 
Captain  Hamilton  and  Captain  Smith  had  charged 
with  their  companies  in  vain,  to  rescue  him. 

171 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

And  next  came  the  more  startling  news  that  on 
the  Arikaree  branch  of  the  upper  Republican,  not 
far  from  the  Forks  where  Pawnee  Killer  had 
attacked  the  Seventh  Cavalry  camp,  700  Cheyenne 
warriors  under  Chief  Roman  Nose  had  surrounded 
General  Forsyth's  fifty  men,  and  had  almost  "  wiped 
them  out."  After  a  terrific  fight  of  three  days  and 
three  nights,  the  volunteers  had  been  rescued  by 
Colonel  Carpenter  and  his  Tenth  Cavalry  from  Fort 
Wallace.  Lieutenant  Beecher  and  Dr.  Mooers  had 
been  killed ;  the  general  thrice  wounded ;  Roman  Nose 
and  many  of  his  braves  had  fallen.  Jack  Stillwell 
had  brought  the  first  dispatch  through  to  Wallace; 
Trudell  had  been  his  companion. 

Yes,  war  it  was.  Wouldn't  Custer  be  needed? 
At  Monroe,  Michigan,  wouldn't  he  be  chafing?  His 
term  of  discipline  was  almost  done.  Then,  as  sudden 
great  news,  appeared  in  the  Leavenworth  daily  paper 
received  at  Fort  Hays  the  following  telegram, 
copied : 

Headquarters  Department  of  the  Missouri, 
In  the  Field,  Fort  Hays,  Kansas,  September  24,  1868. 
General  G.  A.  Custer,  Monroe,  Michigan: 

Generals  Sherman,  Sully,  and  myself,  and  nearly  all  the 
officers  of  your  regiment,  have  asked  for  you,  and  I  hope  the 
application  will  be  successful.  Can  you  come  at  once?  Eleven 
companies  of  your  regiment  will  move  about  the  ist  of  October 
against  the  hostile  Indians,  from  Medicine  Lodge  Creek  toward 
the  Wichita  Mountains. 

P.  H.  SHERIDAN,  Major-General  Commanding. 
172 


XIII 
THE  YELLOW  HAIR  RIDES  AGAIN 


GENERAL  CUSTER  did  not  delay.  He  never  did. 
Within  less  than  a  week,  on  the  last  morning  of  Sep 
tember  who  should  come  racing  into  the  post,  ac 
companying  the  ambulance  from  the  railroad  station 
at  Hays  City,  but  Maida  and  Blucher  and  Flirt  the 
stag  hounds,  and  Rover  the  old  fox  hound,  and 
Fanny  the  little  fox-terrier,  and  all  the  other  Custer 
dogs;  and  who  should  spring  out  of  the  ambulance, 
before  it  had  stopped  at  headquarters,  but  the  general 
himself !  There  he  was,  with  his  yellow  hair  and  his 
shining  eyes  and  his  quick  voice  and  his  lithe,  trim 
figure,  ready  for  business  again. 

Behind  the  ambulance  followed,  led  by  an  orderly, 
the  horses  Phil  Sheridan  and  Custis  Lee. 

From  beyond  the  headquarters  office  seeing  this, 
Ned's  heart  leaped  into  his  throat 

"  Custer's  come!  Custer's  come!"  seemed  to 
run  through  the  post  a  glad  hum.  To  Ned  it  was 
like  a  bugle-call ;  and  he  instantly  resolved  that  where 
the  general  went,  he  was  going  too.  No  more  clerk 
ship  duties  for  him ;  no !  Suddenly  he  felt  strong  and 

173 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

well,  ready  for  anything.  That  was  how  the  general 
made  everybody  around  him  feel;  he  was  so  full  of 
energy  and  enthusiasm. 

Now  was  it  positively  known  that  General  Sheri 
dan  planned  a  winter's  march  against  the  Indians,  to 
catch  them  in  their  villages  while  there  was  no  grass 
for  their  ponies  and  they  could  not  travel  at  will. 
Many  heads  were  shaken,  over  this  scheme,  as  being 
a  fool-hardy  one ;  and  clear  from  St.  Louis  came  out 
to  Hays  a  tall,  lean,  leathery- faced,  squint-eyed  man 
— "  old  Jim  Bridger "  the  celebrated  trapper  and 
mountaineer — expressly  to  tell  General  Sheridan  that 
the  whole  command  would  be  snowed  in  and  lost. 

But  five  hundred  freighting  wagons  were  busy 
taking  supplies  from  Fort  Harker  and  Fort  Leaven- 
worth  to  the  posts  south  in  the  Arkansas  River 
country;  and  with  these  supplies  on  hand,  for  the 
soldiers  and  the  horses,  and  with  the  men  well  clothed, 
General  Sheridan  reasoned  that  the  white  men  would 
do  better  in  the  winter  than  the  red  men. 

"  The  only  way  to  bring  those  Indians  to  terms  is 
to  give  them  a  good  thrashing.  I  rely  on  you  for 
this,  Custer,"  Ned  heard  him  say.  "We'll  carry  the 
war  into  the  enemy's  country,  when  he  isn't  expect 
ing  it." 

Nothing  loth  was  General  Custer ;  no,  not  "  Okl 
Curly."  He  acted  as  happy  as  if  he  were  starting 
out  on  a  buffalo  hunt  or  a  ride  with  Mrs.  Custer  and 
the  dogs.  He  stayed  only  a  couple  of  days  at  Hays, 

174 


THE  YELLOW  HAIR  RIDES  AGAIN 

for  instructions  and  final  preparations;  and  when  out 
he  rode,  southward  bound,  eager  to  resume  command 
of  the  Seventh,  Ned  rode  with  him,  as  his  orderly 
again. 

Fort  Hays  was  well  stripped  of  its  scouts  whom  Ned 
knew:  California  Joe,  Jack  Still  well,  Jack  Corbin, 
Trudell,  Romeo — they  were  south  on  the  Arkansas; 
Buffalo  Bill  was  out  with  some  of  the  Fifth  Cavalry; 
Wild  Bill  was  carrying  dispatches  on  the  trail:  and 
with  them  gone,  and  with  the  Seventh  gone,  Ned  had 
been  feeling  lonesome  and  neglected.  Now  all  was 
changed:  he  was  riding  again  with  Custer.  Hurrah! 

The  rendezvous  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  on 
Bluff  Creek,  about  thirty  miles  southeast  of  Fort 
Dodge.  Fort  Dodge  was  up  the  Arkansas  from  Fort 
Larned,  and  was  of  stone  like  Larned  and  Riley. 
General  Custer  paused  here  only  to  report  to  General 
Sully,  commanding  the  district.  The  next  day  he 
proceeded  on;  and  in  the  afternoon  were  sighted  the 
familiar  white  army  tents  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 

What  a  welcome  there  was,  as  the  troops  turned 
out  to  receive  him,  and  the  dogs'  barked,  and  as  soon 
as  they  might  the  officers  flocked  to  shake  his  hand. 

There  were  some  new  officers  and  many  new  men, 
for  recruits  had  been  rushed  to  fill  the  ranks  to  war 
strength.  However,  there  were  enough  old  friendly 
faces  to  make  the  camp  of  the  Seventh  feel  like  home 
to  Ned;  and  he  was  almost  as  busy  shaking  hands  as 
was  the  general. 

175 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Back  again,  are  ye  ?  "  greeted  Odell,  heartily. 

"  Yes,"  grinned  Ned. 

"  Wance  more  orderly,  then,  I  take  it." 

"  Guess  I  am,  for  a  while." 

"  Well,  the  gen'ral  sticks  to  those  he  likes,  an*  to 
those  he  doesn't  like,  the  same.  He's  got  a  big  heart. 
What's  the  news  from  Hays?  Is  Gen'ral  Sheridan 
comin',  too  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He  says  the  Indians  are  to  be  found  and 
threshed." 

"  B'  gorry,  with  Phil  Sheridan  an'  '  Old  Curly ' 
workin'  together,  this  '11  be  no  paper  campaign,  I 
reckon." 

"  Right  you  are,"  agreed  Sergeant  Walter  Ken 
nedy — who,  Ned  noted,  wore  the  chevrons  of  a 
sergeant-major.  "  Because  they  turned  Sully  and  the 
rest  of  us  back  into  Dodge  the  Injuns  think  they're 
the  bosses.  But  when  once  Sheridan  and  Custer  get 
after  'em  in  earnest,  they'll  change  their  minds." 

California  Joe  was  here,  in  all  his  glory. 

"Is  Shuridan  comin',  young  feller?"  he  asked. 
"  Wall,  he  can't  do  wuss'n  those  other  high-up  gen'rals 
have  done.  But  I  sorter  bet  on  Shuridan." 

"  Do  you  know  him,  Joe?  "  queried  Ned,  politely. 

"  Do  I  know  him,  young  feller  ?  Know  Shuridan  ? 
Why,  bless  my  soul,  I  knowed  Shuridan  'way  up  in 
Oregon  more'n  fifteen  years  ago,  an'  he  was  only  a 
second  lootenint  of  infantry.  Quartermaster  of  the 
foot,  or  somethin'  of  that  sort.  I  had  a  sneakin' 

176 


THE  YELLOW  HAIR  RIDES  AGAIN 

notion  if  ever  they  turned  him  loose  he'd  hurt  some 
body.  Say,  warn't  he  old  lightnin',  in  the  war !  I  tell 
ye ! "  And  Joe  wiped  his  hairy  face  with  a  piece  of 
gunnysack  that  he  used  as  a  handkerchief.  "  I  jest 
been  app'inted  by  Gen'ral  Custer  chief  o'  scouts  down 
here;  but  I  told  him  I  wouldn't  serve  if  this  was  to  be 
ary  ambulance  campaignin'.  He  said  no;  him  an' 
Shuridan  was  goin'  to  chase  the  Injuns  horseback, 
so  as  to  ketch  'em.  That  hit  the  nail  squar  on  the 
head.  A  column  on  wheels,  with  the  wagons  piled 
full  o'  soldiers  like  as  if  they  was  goin'  to  a  town 
fun'ral  in  the  States,  stands  'bout  as  many  chances  of 
ketchin'  Injuns  as  a  six-mule  team  would  of  ketchin' 
a  pack  of  coyotes.  Why,  that  sort  o'  thing  is  only  fun 
for  the  Injuns." 

While  waiting  for  instructions  from  General 
Sheridan,  the  Seventh  Cavalry  worked  hard  to  arrive 
at  what  Odell  called  their  "  fighting  weight."  Five 
hundred  fresh  horses  arrived  by  trail  from  Leaven- 
worth.  The  general  chose  for  himself  a  lively  bay 
which  he  named  Dandy.  The  others  were  apportioned 
out,  and  then  the  troops  or  companies  were  "colored." 
That  is,  the  horses  were  divided  by  colors ;  so  that  one 
troop  was  composed  of  the  grays,  another  of  the 
blacks,  another  of  the  bays,  and  so  forth.  The  junior 
company  commander  must  be  content  with  the 
brindles — the  mixed  colors  left  over. 

Target  practice  was  made  an  order  of  the  day,  for 
some  of  the  recruits  never  had  fired  a  gun.  Forty 

12  \77 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

of  the  best  shots  at  all  distances  were  formed  into 
a  company  of  sharpshooters,  under  Lieutenant 
"  Queen's  Own "  William  Cook,  he  with  the  long 
English  side-whiskers. 

There  were  scouting  expeditions,  and  plenty  of 
hunting.  The  camp  fairly  lived  on  wild  turkey  and 
deer  and  elk  and  buffalo  and  rabbit  and  grouse.  The 
general's  dogs  chased  wolves  and  antelope. 

October  wore  away.  Soon  the  Indians  of  the  plains 
would  be  retiring  into  their  villages,  for  the  winter. 
They  would  eat  dried  buffalo  meat  and  their  horses 
would  eat  cottonwood  bark  and  willows;  and  they 
would  not  expect  to  be  interfered  with.  Then  in  the 
spring  they  would  issue  forth  again,  to  ride  hither- 
thither,  three  miles  to  the  cavalry's  one. 

By  the  reports  which  Scout  Buffalo  'Bill  had 
brought  up  to  Fort  Hays  from  Fort  Larned,  the 
families  of  the  Indians  had  been  moving  southward. 
Therefore  General  Sheridan  believed  that  the  main 
winter  villages  would  be  found  down  in  the  Indian 
Territory,  toward  Texas.  This  was  a  wild  rugged 
country,  where  white  men  rarely  penetrated.  But  the 
Cheyennes  and  the  Kiowas  and  the  Comanches  knew 
it  well. 

General  Sully  and  Uncle  John  Smith,  an  old  trader 
who  had  married  into  the  Cheyennes,  had  located  a 
good  rendezvous  place  for  the  expedition,  where,  form 
ing  the  North  Canadian  River,  Wolf  Creek  and 
Beaver  Creek  joined,  about  one  hundred  miles  south 

178 


THE  YELLOW  HAIR  RIDES  AGAIN 

of  Fort  Dodge.  With  a  huge  supply  train  of  four 
hundred  wagons  and  with  five  companies  of  the  Third 
Regular  Infantry  under  Major  John  H.  Page,  the 
eleven  companies  of  the  Seventh  arrived  there,  to 
wait  for  the  Nineteenth  Kansas  Volunteer  Cavalry. 
Governor  Crawford  of  Kansas  had  resigned  to  be 
its  colonel  in  the  field;  and  General  Sherman's  last 
dispatch  had  said  that  the  regiment  was  on  its  way. 

The  camp  was  named  Camp  Supply,  because  the 
supplies  were  to  be  stored  here.  It  is  in  present  Wood 
ward  County,  northwestern  Oklahoma. 


XIV 
THE  WINTER  WARPATH 


AROUND-ABOUT  storms  continued  to  threaten.  The 
air  was  crisp  but  uncertain.  Everybody  must  turn  to 
and  help  erect  store-houses  to  shelter  the  supplies. 
The  Kansas  Volunteers  should  arrive  at  any  moment ; 
but  they  did  not,  for  they  were  lost  and  snowed  in 
and  starving,  far  to  the  north. 

However,  in  the  midst  of  the  anxiety  and  the 
impatience  General  Sheridan  arrived.  With  his  escort 
he  appeared  in  the  afternoon  of  November  21.  He 
brought  in  350  men:  a  company  of  the  Tenth  Regular 
Cavalry ;  the  "  Sandy "  Forsyth  scouts  who  had 
fought  at  the  Arikaree,  now  under  Lieutenant  Lewis 
Pepoon;  two  companies  of  the  Kansas  Volunteers 
who  had  been  sent  ahead  of  the  regiment  to  Fort 
Dodge;  twelve  Osage  Indian  scouts,  and  ten  Kansas 
Indian  scouts.  Lieutenant  Thomas  Lebo  of  the  Tenth 
Cavalry  was  in  command  of  the  escort. 

Everybody  was  glad  to  see  General  Sheridan  come. 
With  "  Little  Phil  "  on  the  scene,  the  campaign  would 
start  right  up.  General  Custer  had  gone  enthusiastic 
ally  galloping  to  meet  him  and  ride  in  with  him,  and 
discuss  the  situation. 

180 


THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

Most  interesting  of  the  new  arrivals  were  the 
Osages.  They  hated  the  Cheyennes,  Comanches, 
Kiowas,  and  all  these  raiding  Indians  who  pillaged 
them  as  well  as  the  whites ;  through  the  Civil  War  the 
Osages  had  acted  as  Union  scouts,  on  the  plains. 

The  chief  in  the  squad  was  a  tall  straight  old  man 
named  Cha-pa-jen-kan,  or  Little  Beaver.  Another 
chief  was  old  Wen-tsi-kee  or  Hard  Rope,  rather  fat 
and  reported  to  be  very  wise.  Of  the  warriors  Koom- 
la-Manche  or  the  Trotter  was  the  most  famous,  as  a 
fast  runner  and  a  fine  shot. 

The  Osages  had  "  made  medicine  "  for  the  war 
path  at  Fort  Hays ;  the  Kaws  had  made  their  medicine 
on  the  way  down.  They  all  were  armed  with  the  new 
breech-loading  Springfield  rifles;  and  were  paid 
seventy-five  dollars  a  month  and  expenses.  To  show 
how  they  could  shoot,  that  evening  the  Osages  on  their 
war-ponies  galloped  past  a  log  of  wood,  firing  at  it; 
and  every  shot  struck. 

The  Sheridan  column  reported  terrible  weather,  on 
their  march  down  from  Fort  Hays.  One  blizzard 
after  another  had  assailed  them;  the  plains  were 
covered  with  snow ;  the  Arkansas  River  at  Fort  Dodge 
was  thick  with  floating  ice. 

This  very  evening  the  winter  descended  upon 
Camp  Supply  also.  The  snow  began  to  fall  heavily; 
but  standing  out  in  the  storm  the  Seventh  Cavalry 
band  lustily  serenaded  the  Sheridan  headquarters.  The 
Seventh  were  proud  of  their  band.  Odell  said  that  it 

181 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

was  the  best  in  the  army.  It  could  play  as  well  on 
horseback  as  afoot.  Wherever  the  troopers  went,  the 
band  went  too.  General  Custer  was  fond  of  music 
and  believed  that  it  did  the  regiment  good. 

General  Custer  was  in  consultation  with  General 
Sheridan  that  evening;  and  in  the  morning  was  it 
soon  known  that  the  Seventh  Cavalry  would  not  wait 
for  the  Kansas  Volunteers,  but  would  start  at  once 
against  the  Indians.  The  General  Sheridan  column, 
in  coming  down  from  the  Arkansas,  had  struck  a  fresh 
trail  of  an  Indian  war  party  heading  north,  on  a  raid. 
The  Seventh  Cavalry  were  to  follow  this  trail  back 
ward,  so  that  it  would  lead  them  to  the  village. 

Ned  heard  his  general  reading  the  orders  over 
to  Adjutant  Moylan.  They  sounded  just  like  Sheri 
dan,  as  they  said: 

To  proceed  south,  in  the  direction  of  the  Antelope  Hills, 
thence  toward  the  Washita  River,  the  supposed  winter  seat  of 
the  hostile  tribes ;  to  destroy  their  villages  and  ponies ;  to  kill 
or  hang  all  warriors,  and  bring  back  all  women  and  children. 

The  snow  was  still  falling  fast;  but  nobody  cared, 
and  least  of  all  General  Custer.  He  had  told  General 
Sheridan  that  he  would  be  ready  to  move  out  in 
twenty-four  hours;  and  so  he  was.  By  night  the 
wagon-train  of  supplies  for  thirty  days  had  been 
made  up.  Only  a  few  tents  were  allowed ;  the  baggage 
was  stripped  down  to  blankets  and  overcoats. 

Reveille  was  at  three  o'clock;  into  the  snow  and 
the  dark  tumbled  out  the  troopers  of  the  Seventh; 

182 


THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

and  at  stables  and  mess  and  even  at  roll-call  sundry 
jokes  passed  about.  Everybody  was  uncomfortable, 
but  nobody  was  complaining. 

The  sentries  were  knee-deep  in  the  snow;  the 
horses  shivered;  the  cooks  had  hard  work  to  cook 
the  breakfasts. 

"How's  this  for  a  winter  campaign?"  demanded 
Adjutant  Moylan,  trudging  almost  over  his  cavalry 
boots,  to  the  headquarters  tent. 

"Fine!  Fine!"  declared  General  Custer,  peering 
out.  "Just  what  we  want." 

"  Well,  we've  got  it,  then,"  assured  the  adjutant, 
snow-covered. 

So  they  were  off,  willy-nilly,  thought  Ned. 

It  was  just  daylight  when  at  the  word  from  the 
adjutant  he  blew  "  Boots  and  Saddles."  The  notes 
not  only  set  the  cavalry  into  action,  but  seemed  to 
awaken  all  the  camp;  for  tents  were  thrown  open  and 
officers  and  men  of  the  infantry  and  the  volunteers 
poked  out  their  heads.  The  general  went  galloping 
across  to  the  tent  of  General  Sheridan. 

"  Is  that  you,  Custer  ?  What  do  you  think  about 
the  storm?"  The  words  of  General  Sheridan  issued 
muffled  but  plain,  into  the  driving  flakes. 

"  Just  the  thing,  general,"  answered  so  buoyantly 
"  Old  Curly."  "  We  can  move  but  the  Indians  can't. 
I'd  ask  nothing  better  than  a  week  of  this." 

"  Good-by,  old  fellow.  Take  care  of  yourself," 
called  from  the  door  of  his  tent  Lieutenant  Taylor, 

183 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

an  aide,  as  General  Custer  galloped  back.  Wrapped 
in  a  huge  buffalo-robe,  Lieutenant  Taylor  looked  like 
a  chief. 

The  general  waved  at  him. 

"  To  horse,"  sounded  Ned. 

The  troopers,  misty  in  the  storm,  stood  ready. 

"  Prepare  to  mount ! "  was  shouted  the  order. 
"  Mount !  By  fours — right !  For-r'd — march !  " 

All  along  the  line  of  tents  hands  waved  and  voices 
called,  for  good-by  and  good  luck,  as  in  column  of 
fours  out  at  a  walk  rode  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  eleven 
companies,  800  men,  bound  against  the  storm  and  the 
Indians.  Bravely  blared  the  band,  playing  "  The  Girl 
I  Left  Behind  Me." 

General  Custer  wore  a  round  wolf-fur  cap  with 
ear-tabs,  fur  mittens,  and  on  his  feet  great  buffalo- 
hide  over-shoes  with  the  hair  inside.  That  was  trapper 
style.  His  double-breasted  cavalry  overcoat  kept  his 
body  warm.  The  whole  command  was  dressed  after 
any  fashion  that  would  be  comfortable.  California 
Joe  was  rigged  as  customary  in  his  old  slouch  hat  tied 
down  scoop-shape,  on  his  hands  were  enormous 
buffalo-hide  mittens,  on  his  feet  hide  shoes  like  the 
general's.  The  Osages,  who  were  taken,  sat  stiffly 
with  their  buffalo  robes  projecting  above  their  heads, 
behind.  Hard  Rope  shivered  and  shook,  and 
murmured  plaintively. 

"What's  he  saying?"  queried  the  general,  of  the 
interpreter. 

184 


THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

"  He  says  it's  bad  for  an  old  man  to  be  alone  in 
cold  weather,  and  he  will  capture  a  Cheyenne  squaw 
to  keep  his  back  warm,"  explained  the  interpreter. 

But  the  scouts  were  soon  out  of  hearing  and  out 
of  sight.  They  were  supposed  to  take  the  advance,  so 
as  to  read  sign  and  guide  the  column  to  the  next 
camping  place,  fifteen  miles.  After  them  trailed  the 
long  column  of  snow-covered  troopers  and  horses, 
with  the  baggage  wagons  toiling  at  the  rear.  Behind 
the  wagons  rode  a  troop  as  guard. 

The  scouts  knew  where  the  trail  of  the  hostile 
war  party  had  been  crossed,  but  the  snow  concealed  it 
and  all  landmarks.  And  still  the  snow  fell,  until 
when  after  the  fifteen  miles  march  (which  required 
all  day)  the  column  went  into  camp  the  chill  white 
mantle  was  eighteen  inches  thick. 

"  How  is  it,  Joe  ?  Cleared  off,  hasn't  it  ?  "  invited 
the  general,  as  on  a  short  tour  of  inspection  in  the  gray 
of  the  next  morning  he  encountered  that  worthy. 

"  Yep,  trav'lin's  good  overhead  to-day,  good 
mornin',  gen'ral,"  answered  the  ready  Joe.  "  An'  I've 
got  an  infarnal  chronical  cough  that's  been  nigh 
scuttlin'  me  this  two  days,  an'  I've  bin  thinkin'  that 
I  cot  died  the  glanders,  an'  they  might  as  well  shoot 
a  fellow  to  onct  as  to  have  that  botherin'  him." 

"  Sorry,  Joe,"  laughed  the  general. 

The  march  was  south,  up  the  valley  of  Wolf  Creek. 
Patches  of  willows  and  timber  were  full  of  deer  and 
elk  and  buffalo  that  had  been  driven  there  by  the 

185 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

storm.  Maida  and  Blucher  the  general's  stag-hounds 
had  great  fun  chasing  them;  and  the  column  secured 
plenty  of  meat. 

Now  the  march  left  the  valley  of  the  Wolf,  and 
crossed  to  the  valley  of  the  Canadian,  a  day's  march 
southward.  Beyond  the  Canadian  lay  the  country  of 
the  Washita  River,  where,  everybody  believed,  were 
the  winter  villages  of  the  hostile  Indians.  The  Chey- 
ennes,  the  Kiowas,  the  Comanches,  the  Apaches — 
there  might  they  be  found,  snugly  encamped  until  the 
call  of  spring. 

This  was  the  third  day.  The  Yellow  Hair  and  his 
cavalry  were  sixty  miles  into  the  Indian's  own 
country,  where  white  cavalry  never  before  had  been. 
Around-about  stretched  the  snowy  wilderness  of 
plains  and  water-course.  It  was  time  that  some  trace 
of  the  Indians  be  found.  On  a  scout  up  along  the 
Canadian  was  sent  the  gallant  Major  Joel  Elliot,  who 
never  did  things  by  halves.  He  was  given  three 
troops.  He  was  to  travel  light,  without  wagons,  but 
with  one  hundred  rounds  of  carbine  ammunition  to 
the  man,  one  day's  rations,  and  horse  forage.  If  an 
Indian  trail  was  discovered,  he  was  to  pursue  at  once, 
and  to  send  back  a  courier  with  the  news.  With 
soldiers  and  scouts,  both  red  and  white,  west  along  the 
snowy  banks  of  the  Canadian,  from  whose  red  soil 
the  wind  had  blown  the  snow,  rode  Major  Elliot. 

California  Joe  had  found  a  ford,  and  aiming  for 
the  Washita,  through  the  floating  ice  of  the  swift 

186 


THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

current  crossed  the  horses  and  the  wagons.  Helping, 
the  men  must  wade  waist-deep.  This  was  cold,  mean 
work,  but  it  was  done  in  three  hours. 

The  high  round  Antelope  Hills  loomed  ahead. 
These  were  the  landmarks  of  the  march  and  Little 
Beaver  and  Hard  Rope  and  their  followers  had  struck 
them  exactly.  Up  the  further  slope  of  the  Canadian 
Valley  toiled  the  hooded,  heavy  army  wagons. 

Major  Elliot  had  been  gone  three  hours  or  more. 

From  a  little  knoll  the  general  had  been  surveying 
and  directing,  while  Ned  sat  his  horse  beside  him, 
and  Adjutant  Moylan  bustled  hither-thither.  The  rear 
guard  finally  had.  crossed,  below.  For  this  they  were 
waiting. 

"  All  right,"  remarked  the  general,  shortly,  to 
Ned.  "  Sound  to  horse."  And—"  No !  Wait ! "  he 
thundered.  "  Here  comes  somebody." 

He  pointed,  and  leveled  his  glasses.  Down  from 
the  north  was  approaching  at  steady  gallop  a  figure 
black  against  the  white  background. 

"It's  Corbin,"  pronounced  the  general,  'gazing 
earnestly  through  his  glass.  His  tanned  face  flushed 
high. 

Yes,  it  was  Corbin — Jack  Corbin  the  scout  who 
was  a  partner  of  California  Joe.  Evidently  he  bore 
important  news,  for  he  was  urging  his  horse  merci 
lessly.  He  arrived — his  face  frosty  and  his  horse 
gasping  through  wide  frosty  nostrils.  The  general 

187 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

<iid  not  say  a  word,  in  query;  none  was  needed,  for 
Corbin  spoke  at  once. 

"  We've  struck  the  trail,  about  twelve  miles  north. 
Hundred  and  fifty  Injuns,  pointin'  southeast,  for  the 
Washita.  Made  within  twenty- four  hours." 

"  Good !  "  ejaculated  the  general.  "  Where's 
Elliot?" 

"  Follerin'." 

"  Can  you  catch  him,  with  a  fresh  horse  ?  " 

"  Reckon  I  can." 

"  Take  that  horse  there,"  directed  the  general. 

Corbin  was  changing  saddle  in  a  jiffy. 

"  Tell  Major  Elliot  to  push  the  pursuit  as  rapidly 
as  he  can,  and  I'll  cut  across  country  and  join  him. 
If  the  trail  changes  direction  so  that  I  may  not  strike 
it,  he  is  to  let  me  know.  If  I  do  not  join  him  by 
eight  o'clock  tonight  he  is  to  halt  and  wait  for  me." 

Without  a  word  away  galloped  Jack  Corbin. 

"  Sound  officers'  call,  bugler,"  bade  the  general, 
to  Ned. 

So  busy  had  been  the  officers  that  apparently  none 
had  noted  the  arrival  and  departure  of  Jack.     But 
now  at  the  bugle  notes  they  hastened  up,  curious  to 
know  the  occasion.     In  his  quick,  sharp  manner  the 
general  told  them  what  had  happened. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  this  is  our  chance,"  he  added. 
"We  mustn't  neglect  it,  and  we  mustn't  let  Major 
Elliot  do  all  the  fighting.  We'll  cut  loose.  The 
wagons  arc  to  be  left  here,  under  guard  of  one  officer 

188 


THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

and  of  ten  men  detailed  from  each  company.  Company 
commanders  will  make  their  own  details.  The  officer 
of  the  day  will  remain  in  charge  of  the  guard,  and 
bring  on  the  wagons,  following  our  trail  as  fast  as 
practicable.  The  pursuing  column  will  be  in  light 
marching  order.  Never  mind  the  weather.  The 
Indians  are  of  more  importance.  Commands  will  be 
limited  to  one  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition  to  the 
man,  and  such  coffee,  hard  bread,  forage  and  blankets 
as  he  can  carry  on  the  saddle.  Tents  and  extra 
blankets  to  be  left  with  the  wagons.  That  is  all,  gentle 
men."  And  the  general  looked  at  his  watch.  "  The 
advance  will  be  sounded  in  twenty  minutes.  Adjutant, 
you  will  inform  the  officer  of  the  day  as  to  the 
arrangements." 

At  once  half  a  dozen  voices  spoke,  in  little  chorus. 

"  That's  Hamilton !  Oh,  we  ought  to  have  Hamil 
ton  with  us ! " 

The  general  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  Somebody's  duty  is  with  the  wagon-train." 

Out  scattered  the  officers,  for  time  was  indeed 
short,  and  the  general  never  accepted  excuses  for  de 
lay.  Young  Captain  Hamilton,  as  officer  of  the  day 
in  charge  of  the  rear  guard,  which  had  just  crossed, 
had  been  absent  from  the  conference;  now  he  came 
galloping,  interrupting  the  general  who  had  plunged 
into  the  preparations.  The  captain's  face  was  white 
and  anxious.  He  saluted. 

189 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  general,"  he  blurted.  "  Suti 
do  I  understand  that  the  officer  of  the  day  remains 
with  the  wagon-train  ?  " 

"Yes,  captain." 

"  But,  general !    I'm  officer  of  the  day !  " 

"  I  did  not  think  of  it  at  the  time,  Hamilton," 
replied  the  general,  frankly.  "  I  simply  gave  the  in 
structions,  and  I'm  afraid  they  must  be  followed." 

"  General !  "  exclaimed  the  captain.  He  was  much 
distressed.  Ned  knew  why,  and  appreciated.  To  stay 
behind,  while  the  others  fought,  would  be  awful. 
"  Then  I  must  remain  ?  Can't  I  go,  sir  ?  " 

"The  wagon-train  must  be  protected,"  answered 
the  general,  kind  but  firm.  "  We'd  like  to  have  you 
with  us,  Hamilton.  We  need  such  men  as  you.  But 
the  train  needs  an  officer,  too;  and  this  is  soldier's 
luck.  Your  duty  is  here." 

"  It  seems  pretty  hard  that  I've  got  to  stay,"  he 
murmured,  dismayed.  "  There's  liable  to  be  a  big 
fight — and  I  won't  be  on  hand  to  lead  my  squadron." 

The  general  surveyed  him,  with  eyes  softening. 
Truly,  the  young  captain,  high-mettled  and  soldierly, 
made  a  sorry  figure. 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Hamilton.  If — if  you  can  find  an 
officer  who  by  one  reason  or  another  feels  convinced 
that  he  should  stay  rather  than  you,  he  may  take  your 
place.  Otherwise,  as  officer  of  the  day  your  duty  is 
with  the  train." 

Captain  Hamilton's  face  lighted, 
m 


THE  WINTER  WARPATH 

"Thank  you,  general!  Thank  you!  I'll  go  and 
see."  And  whirling  his  horse,  back  he  galloped,  on 
this  forlorn  hope.  Ned  rather  trusted  that  he  would 
be  successful. 

Presently,  here  he  came  again.  He  was  fairly 
shining,  as  he  saluted. 

"  Lieutenant  Mathey,  sir !  He  has  snow-blindness 
so  he  can  scarcely  see,  and  he  would  be  of  no  use  with 
the  column.  He  has  kindly  consented  to  exchange 
with  me.  Shall  I  join  my  squadron,  sir  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  approved  the  general.  And  the 
glad  Captain  Louis  Hamilton,  grandson  of  Alexander 
Hamilton,  went  flying  to  his  post. 

In  precisely  due  time  the  general  looked  at  his 
watch.  He  vaulted  into  the  saddle. 

"  All  ready,  Moylan,"  he  called.  And,  to  Ned : 
"  Sound  the  advance.'* 


XV 
-"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT1 


IT  was  a  long,  long  forced  march.  Wide  and 
white  lay  the  desolate  desert  beyond  the  Canadian, 
and  through  the  foot  of  snow  ploughed  the  eager 
column.  Not  a  moving  figure  broke  the  white  ex 
panse;  not  a  moving  figure  save  the  figures  of  Cali 
fornia  Joe  and  Romeo  and  Little  Beaver  and  Hard 
Rope  and  the  other  scouts,  as  far  in  advance  and  on 
either  side  they  rode  seeking  the  Elliot  trail.  As  the 
major,  following  the  Indians,  had  been  heading  south 
east,  a  course  south  ought  to  strike  his  tracks,  soon  or 
late. 

Late  it  proved  to  be ;  for  not  until  within  an  hour 
of  sunset,  and  after  a  day's  ride  without  halt  for  food 
or  drink,  did  the  column  see  Little  Beaver  stop  short, 
and  with  uplifted  hand  signal  a  trail. 

Such  had  been  Thanksgiving  Day,  Thursday,  No 
vember  26,  1868. 

By  the  tracks,  Major  Elliot  was  still  upon  the  trail 
of  the  village-bound  Indians.  After  reading  the  pony 
sign,  Little  Beaver  and  his  Osages  declared  that  the 

192 


"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

Indians  had  passed  on  their  way  this  very  morning. 
Much  relieved,  the  general  ordered  a  trot;  and  for 
ward  pressed  the  column,  to  overtake  the  major.  Dusk 
descended.  Before  were  visible  the  outlines  of  timber, 
along  a  stream  in  a  little  valley.  The  general  sent 
ahead  a  squad  of  soldiers  and  scouts,  to  catch  the 
major  and  tell  him  to  halt,  at  wood  and  water,  and  to 
wait. 

"  Tell  him  not  to  make  camp,  but  to  be  ready  for 
a  night  march  when  I  join  him,"  added  the  general. 

As  for  the  column,  at  last  they  were  given  an  hour, 
for  rest  and  for  coffee,  and  to  feed  the  horses. 

The  zealous  Major  Elliot  had  gone  further  than 
anybody  had  expected.  Not  until  nine  o'clock  at 
night,  and  after  another  hard  ride  through  snow  and 
timber  and  darkness,  finally  was  he  found,  waiting  as 
ordered,  by  a  stream  with  high  banks. 

"  An  hour  for  rest,  again,"  ordered  the  general, 
briefly.  "  Then  the  moon  will  be  up  and  we  can  take 
the  trail.  There  are  to  be  no  bugle  calls  or  other 
noise.  Sound  carries  far,  in  this  country.  The  men 
may  make  fire  for  coffee,  small  ones  down  under  the 
edges  of  the  banks  so  that  the  flames  will  not  show. 
Send  the  Osages  to  me.  I  want  to  talk  with  them." 

The  Osages  were  certain  that  this  was  a  branch  of 
the  Washita  River,  and  that  the  Cheyennes  and 
Kiowas  and  all  had  their  village  not  far  down  stream. 
The  trail  seemed  to  be  leading  straight  for  it.  But 

13  193 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

through  the  half-breed  interpreter  Little  Beaver  kept 
insisting  that  the  soldiers  stay  here  concealed  in  the 
timber  until  daylight,  and  then  march  upon  the  trail 
again. 

General  Custer  snapped  his  fingers  impatiently,  and 
laughed. 

"  That  is  the  Indian  way  of  righting,"  he  promptly 
said.  "  They  hate  to  attack  anybody  concealed  by  the 
dark  or  by  entrenchments.  No,  tell  Little  Beaver  that 
we  are  going  to  fight  white  man's  way,  and  that  we 
march  in  one  hour,  when  the  moon  rises." 

This  did  not  seem  to  satisfy  the  Osages,  who 
murmured  gutturally  among  themselves.  Evidently, 
like  Pawnee  Killer,  although  for  different  reason,  they 
did  not  regard  any  too  highly  the  skill  of  the  white 
chief,  whom  they  called  the  Chief  with  the  Long  Yel 
low  Hair. 

The  hour  passed;  the  half  moon  rose;  and  one  by 
one  Captain  Hamilton,  Colonel  Cook,  Captain  Yates, 
Captain  Smith,  Major  Bell,  and  all  the  other  company 
commanders  reported  to  Adjutant  Moylan  that  their 
detachments  were  ready  for  the  march. 

No  bugles  were  sounded;  but  in  column  of  fours 
the  eight  hundred  horsemen  rode  in  dim  column  down 
the  course  of  the  creek,  following  the  Indian  trail  so 
plainly  showing  in  the  white  snow. 

Two  of  the  Osages,  Hard  Rope  and  a  warrior, 
led,  three  hundred^  yards  in  advance.  They  were  on 

194 


"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

foot,  the  better  to  read  sign;  with  long,  silent  mocca- 
sined  tread  they  stole  swiftly  across  the  snow.  They 
saw  scalps,  to  be  taken  from  their  hated  enemies  the 
Cheyennes  and  the  Kiowas. 

After  them  rode  in  single  file  the  white  and  red 
scouts,  California  Joe  on  his  mule  to  the  fore.  His 
old  Springfield  musket  lay  in  the  hollow  of  his  left 
arm;  but  for  the  once  the  reek  of  his  pipe  did  not 
drift  back.  The  orders  forbade  any  smoking.  'Be 
side  California  Joe  rode  the  general  himself,  to  be  on 
hand  to  catch  the  first  word  or  signal.  Close  behind 
him  rode  Ned,  trumpeter  orderly. 

At  a  quarter  of  a  mile  the  column  cautiously 
followed.  Now  and  then  one  of  the  officers  advanced 
at  a  trot,  and  whispered  to  the  general,  making  sug 
gestion  or  query;  but  even  this  did  not  break  the 
silence.  Ever  the  march  continued,  as  if  for  hours 
and  hours. 

Suddenly  California  Joe  pointed,  significantly. 
The  two  Osages  picking  the  trail  had  halted;  at  short 
command  from  the  general  Ned  must  fall  out  and  tell 
Adjutant  Moylan  to  halt  the  column  also. 

When  he  returned,  at  trot,  the  general  was  with 
the  two  Osages.  One  of  them  could  speak  a  little 
English. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  the  general. 

"  Me  don't  know,"  replied  the  Osage.  "  But  me 
smell  fire." 

195 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Adjutant  Moylan,  Colonel  Myers  (who  was  an 
old  plainsman)  and  Colonel  Benteen,  arrived;  they 
all  sniffed  hard,  as  did  Ned;  but  none  of  them  could 
smell  a  trace  of  smoke. 

"  Humph ! "  grunted  Colonel  Myers.  "  He's 
scared ;  that's  what  ails  him.  ,You  know,  these  Indians 
don't  favor  this  march,  and  they're  trying  to  find  an 
excuse  to  stop." 

"  Me  smell  fire,"  insisted  the  Osage ;  and  his  com 
panion  nodded  violently. 

"Do  you  smell  anything,  Joe?"  queried  the 
general. 

California  Joe  wagged  his  head  slowly,  as  he  in 
haled  through  his  frosted  brick-red  whiskers. 

"  No,  I  don't,  gen'ral.  Nor  Corbin  neither.  An' 
we  got  first-class  smellers,  too,  though  jest  at  this 
moment  they're  froze  stiff." 

"Very  well,"  responded  the  general.  "We'll 
proceed.  Tell  the  trailers  to  go  slow,  and  keep  their 
noses  and  eyes  open." 

More  than  half  a  mile  was  covered ;  and  again  the 
Osages  had  halted.  This  time  they  were  triumphant, 
and  received  the  general  with  conscious  dignity.  The 
English-speaking  Osage  pointed  before,  to  the  left. 

"  Me  told  you  so,"  he  uttered,  in  whisper. 

Sure  enough.  In  front,  one  hundred  yards  beside 
the  trail,  at  the  edge  of  the  timber,  was  low  gleam  of 
a  camp-fire  almost  dead.  It  was  only  a  handful  of 


"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

embers,  and  still  Ned  could  not  smell  it;  but  there 
it  was.  Truly,  those  Osages  had  good  noses. 

Although  through  the  drifting  clouds  of  winter 
the  moon  shone  brightly  upon  the  long  column  wait 
ing  in  the  snow,  from  the  fire  no  movement  was  made. 
The  Indians  who  had  built  the  fire  must  be  sleeping. 

"  Joe,  you  and  Little  Beaver  take  a  few  of  your 
men  arid  scout  around  that  camp,"  whispered  the 
general.  A  quaver  in  his  voice  told  of  his  excite 
ment.  "  Find  out  all  you  can.  We'll  wait  here." 

To  the  snow  swung  California  Joe  and  Jack  Corbin 
and  Little  Beaver  and  all  the  Osages.  With  click  of 
rifle-lock  they  stole  forward,  on  circuit  to  enter  the 
timber  above  the  fire  and  thus  spy  upon  it.  Presently 
they  disappeared.  Sat  tense  every  officer  and  every 
soldier,  peering,  keen  to  meet  any  vicious  volley  which 
surely  would  empty  saddles.  For  the  column  was  a 
fair  mark. 

Was  the  hard,  cold  march  of  three  days  to  be  a 
failure?  Were  the  Indians  already  on  the  alert? 
See!  Now,  bending  low,  out  from  the  edge  of  the 
timber  issued  an  Osage.  California  Joe  followed  close. 
One  after  another  the  scouts  all  issued,  approaching 
the  fire.  They  reached  it,  they  straightened  up — 
apparently  nothing  happened,  and  a  great  sigh  of  re 
lief  swept  through  the  tense  column,  where  the  com 
panies  sat  at  their  intervals. 

After  prying  about,  and  examining  shrewdly,  the 
scouts  returned.  California  Joe  reported. 

197 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Tain't  no  reg'lar  camp-fire,"  he  uttered.  "  The 
party  we're  trailin'  never  made  it,  'cordin'  to  them 
Osages.  It's  the  work  of  Injun  herders;  boys,  like 
as  not,  to  warm  'em  while  they  watched  the  ponies. 
Village  ought  to  be  within  two  or  three  miles,  at 
most." 

That  was  good  news.  The  general  gave  the  word 
to  advance  again,  but  more  cautiously  than  ever.  And 
taking  Ned,  as  orderly,  with  his  usual  impulsiveness 
he  rode  forward  accompanying  the  two  Osage  guides 
who  had  done  so  well. 

The  trail  had  left  the  stream,  to  cut  across  a  big 
bend.  The  guides  kept  just  at  the  head  of  the  general's 
horse.  Whenever  they  came  to  a  rise,  one  would 
creep  forward  and  peer  over.  Seeing  that  the  coast 
was  clear,  he  would  signal  for  the  others  to  come  on. 
Breathless  work  was  this,  and  Ned's  heart  thumped 
so  that  he  feared  he  would  be  ordered  to  stay  where 
he  was.  Now  from  the  crest  of  a  long  brushy  divide 
the  Osage,  reconnoitering,  had  put  his  hand  to  his 
brow,  peering  from  under  it.  He  crouched  lower,  and 
came  hastily  back.  Something  had  been  sighted. 

"  What  is  it?  "  asked  the  general,  eagerly. 

"  Heaps  Injuns  down  there,"  grunted  gutturally 
the  Osage,  at  the  saddle  flaps.  And  he  pointed  ahead. 

Off  from  his  horse  swung  the  general ;  he  signed  to 
Ned,  and  leaving  their  mounts  in  charge  of  the  other 
Osage,  with  the  first  one  they  also  stole  forward. 

198 


"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

"  Drop  that  sabre,"  whispered  the  general  to  Ned, 
sternly.  Ned  unbuckled  his  belt  and  dropped  it,  with 
the  dragging  scabbard.  He  was  making  too  much 
noise. 

Low  in  the  moonlight,  peeping  over  the  top  of  the 
ridge  they  scanned  the  valley  before.  About  half  a 
mile  beyond,  upon  the  snow  which  edged  the  timber 
skirting  the  icy  stream  was  a  large  blackish  mass, 
like  a  great  mass  of  animals. 

"  Buffalo !  "  hazarded  the  general,  after  looking 
long  and  earnestly. 

The  Osage  said  not  a  word. 

"  Why  do  you  think  Indians?"  whispered  the 
general.  "  Maybe  buffalo." 

The  Osage  shook  his  feathered  head. 

"  No.     Me  heard  dog  bark,"  he  asserted,  softly. 

Again  they  listened.  The  freezing  air  was  very 
quiet.  Ned's  heart  thumped;  he  wished  that  he  need 
not  breathe.  Then,  clear,  through  the  night  did  sound 
the  yappy  bark  of  a  dog,  from  the  timber  near  the 
black  mass. 

"  That's  right,"  murmured  the  general.  "Wait! 
Isn't  that  a  bell — a  pony  bell  ?  Yes.  Ponies  those  are. 
Buffalo  aren't  in  the  habit  of  wearing  bells  in  this 
country." 

He  turned  quickly,  and  took  a  step,  to  carry  the 
news  to  the  column.  But  he  stopped  short.  The  bell 
had  ceased,  no  dog  barked,  but  high  and  plaintive 

199 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

welled  through  the  lonely  waste  the  cry  of  a  baby. 
Ned  fairly  started;  it  sounded  so  like  home  and  fire 
side.  Of  course,  the  Indians  had  their  babies. 

"  That's  tough,"  muttered  the  general.  "  Those 
Indians  have  not  spared  our  women  and  children — 
but  I  wish  that  village  held  only  men." 

With  Ned  he  hurried  back  to  the  scouts  while  the 
two  Osages  remained  on  lookout  over  the  sleeping 
village. 

"  My  compliments  to  the  adjutant,  and  tell  him  to 
have  all  the  officers  join  me  here,"  he  directed,  to  Ned. 
And  Ned  carried  the  message. 

Speedily  the  word  was  passed,  and  from  along  the 
column  filled  with  rumors  the  officers  promptly 
gathered  in  a  circle  about  their  colonel. 

"  The  village  is  ahead,  about  three  quarters  of  a 
mile,  gentlemen,"  spoke  cautiously  the  general.  "  Re 
move  your  sabres,  and  come  forward  with  me,  as 
quietly  as  possible,  and  from  the  top  of  that  rise 
yonder  where  the  two  Osages  are  I'll  show  you  the 
lay  of  the  land." 

This  they  did,  gladly.  From  the  rise  they  re- 
connoitered,  in  a  cautious  knot.  The  pony  herd  was 
as  plain  as  before;  still  ruled  the  lonely  night;  some 
where  down  there  the  Indian  village  slept.  They  be 
lieved  that  they  could  trace  a  collection  of  tipis. 

After  pointing  and  explaining,  and  receiving  nods 
of  understanding,  the  general  as  quietly  withdrew. 
All  followed. 

200 


"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

Now  a  council  of  war  must  be  held,  where  the 
sabres  had  been  left.  California  Joe  listened  approv 
ingly;  Little  Beaver  and  Hard  Rope  anxiously,  try 
ing  to  comprehend  the  white  chief's  plan.  The  Osages 
had  loosened  their  buffalo  robes,  as  if  prepared  for 
instant  action.  But  that  was  not  the  scheme. 

The  attack  was  to  be  made  at  dawn,  as  soon  as 
there  was  light  enough  for  aiming.  The  village  was 
to  be  surrounded,  first,  and  charged  from  four  sides. 

Now  was  it  after  midnight ;  the  moon  was  floating 
high.  At  once  set  out,  under  cover  of  the  ridge,  with 
troops  G,  H  and  M,  about  200  men,  Major  Joel  Elliot, 
on  wide  circuit  to  take  station  whence  he  might  charge 
the  village  from  below;  set  out  in  the  other  direction, 
with  B  and  F  troops,  Colonel  William  Thompson,  to 
take  similar  position  above. 

"  The  attack  will  be  made  promptly  at  daylight, 
gentlemen,"  were  the  general's  last  instructions.  "  The 
band  will  play  Garryowen,  and  at  the  first  note  you 
will  charge  from  whatever  position  you  are  in." 

The  veteran  Colonel  Myers  and  his  "  right  center  " 
column  might  remain,  until  time  to  take  their  posts 
also,  not  so  far  away,  on  the  right. 

The  fourth  or  "  center  "  column  was  commanded 
by  the  general  himself;  but  of  the  four  companies, 
A,  C,  D  and  K,  Captain  Hamilton  commanded  the  one 
squadron,  Colonel  West  the  other.  And  there  were 
Lieutenant  (Colonel)  "Queen's  Own"  Cook's 
sharpshooters. 

201 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Ah,  but  it  was  cold  up  here,  behind  the  ridge. 
The  time  was  two  o'clock,  and  four  hours  must  pass 
before  daylight.  Nobody  might  make  a  fire,  and 
orders  forbade  stamping  of  the  feet  or  walking  up  and 
down,  because  such  a  creaking  of  the  snow  might  give 
alarm  to  the  village. 

The  men,  huddled  in  their  overcoats,  stood  or 
crouched,  each  holding  to  the  lines  of  his  horse.  The 
officers  gathered  in  little  knots,  and  sitting  or  standing, 
talked  low. 

The  general's  group  was  the  largest:  Adjutant 
Moylan,  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer,  Captain  Hamilton, 
Colonel  West,  and  others. 

"  It's  been  a  long  Thanksgiving  day,  and  a  fast 
instead  of  a  feast,"  said  Colonel  West. 

"Oh,  we'll  have  our  celebration  later,"  quoth 
Lieutenant  Tom.  "  You  know  the  verse : 

For  gold  the  merchant  plows  the  main, 

The  farmer  plows  the  manor; 
But  glory  is  the  soldier's  prize, 

The  soldier's  wealth  is  honor. 

"  How  about  it,  Hamilton?  Are  you  glad  you 
came  ?  "  asked  Lieutenant  Moylan. 

"  Perfectly.  The  only  person  I'm  sorry  for  is 
poor  Mathey." 

"  He's  liable  to  miss  a  rousing  good  fight." 

"  And  one  in  which  some  of  us  are  likely  to  get 
hurt.  Those  Indians  will  fight  like  demons,  to  defend 
their  families  and  property." 

202 


"WE  ATTACK  AT  DAYLIGHT" 

"  Well,  as  for  me,  gentlemen,  you  know  how  I 
feel,"  spoke  young  Captain  Hamilton,  earnestly.  "  I 
want  the  soldier's  death.  When  my  hour  comes,  I 
hope  that  I  shall  be  shot  through  the  heart,  in  battle." 

By  all  the  low  talk,  among  men  as  among  officers, 
the  approaching  battle  must  be  regarded  as  a  serious 
problem.  Nobody  might  tell  how  many  Indians  were 
housed  down  below,  on  their  own  ground,  with  plenty 
of  ammunition  and  food  and  cover;  and  no  harder 
fighters  could  be  found  than  the  Cheyennes  and  the 
Kiowas. 

The  Osages,  in  their  war-paint  of  red,  white,  black 
and  yellow,  sat  under  blankets  and  robes,  in  a  circle, 
murmuring  gravely  as  if  they,  too,  were  doubtful  of 
the  white  chief's  ability.  One  of  them  was  not  in 
war-paint.  His  paint  all  was  black,  for  mourning. 
The  interpreter  explained  that  this  warrior  had  lost 
his  squaw,  to  the  Cheyennes,  and  that  he  could  not 
wash  off  his  mourning  until  he  had  taken  a  Cheyenne 
scalp. 

Ned  thought  much  upon  tHe  village.  It  probably 
would  contain  some  white  captives.  Among  them 
might  be  little  Mary.  He  resolved  to  keep  his  eyes 
open  for  trace  of  anybody  looking  as  she  might  look. 


XVI 
'-'  GARRYOWEN  "  AND  "  CHARGE! ' 


WHILE  dragged  the  cold  hours,  some  of  the  officers 
threw  the  capes  of  their  cavalry  greatcoats  over  their 
heads,  and  stretched  upon  the  snow,  slept.  The 
general,  having  finished  his  inspection,  did  likewise. 
But  the  Osages  did  not  sleep;  neither  did  the  men  of 
the  ranks,  now  collected  closer  in  groups  at  their 
horses'  heads,  to  keep  warm.  The  stag-hounds,  Maida 
and  Blucher,  shivered  and  whined,  and  curled  in  a 
ball. 

Beyond,  upon  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  an  Osage  and 
two  of  the  officers  were  keeping  keen  watch  upon  the 
unconscious  village  below. 

Ned  dozed ;  when  he  awakened,  stiff  and  shivering, 
the  moon  had  set,  all  was  pitchy  dark,  except  that  far 
in  the  east  just  a  tinge  of  grayness  signaled  the  ap 
proach  of  dawn. 

Somebody  near  Ned  stirred,  and  struck  a  match. 
It  was  the  general,  who  looked  at  his  watch.  The 
flickering  light  revealed  his  anxious  face  and  moustache 
rimmed  with  frost.  He  stood,  and  bending  over 
another  sleeping  form  he  said,  low  and  earnest: 
"Moylan'!  Moylan!" 

204 


"GARRYOWEN"  AND  "CHARGE!" 

"  Yes,  sir."  And  the  adjutant  also  sat  up,  to 
yawn,  and  spring  to  his  feet. 

"  It's  time  we  were  forming.  Wake  the  officers," 
continued  the  general.  "  Is  that  you,  trumpeter?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Ned. 

'  You  may  help  us.  When  you  come  to  Colonel 
Myers,  either  of  you,  give  him  my  compliments  and 
tell  him  to  move  his  command  out  at  once  and  take 
position." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Many  of  the  officers  already  were  awake,  waiting, 
peering,  listening.  All  around  up-towered  dim  figures, 
and  cautious  voices  spoke  in  undertones.  Faint  jingle 
sounded,  as  the  horses  stirred  at  movement  of  their 
guardians. 

Presently  into  the  darkness  filed  away  Colonel 
Myers'  column,  to  take  position  further  along  on  the 
right. 

The  troopers  of  the  center  column  were  not  yet 
mounted;  the  companies  in  column  of  fours  bided  the 
time  when  the  light  from  the  east  should  be  stronger. 

Ned,  beside  his  horse,  quivered  with  cold  and  ex 
citement  mingled.  All  before  was  grim  and  silent; 
the  ridge,  snowy  and  blotched  with  brush,  lay  against 
the  sky-line  to  the  south;  beyond  the  ridge  was  the 
fated  village.  Not  even  a  dog  barked. 

Suddenly  through  the  columns  of  fours  ran  a 
murmur.  Into  the  velvet  black  sky  over  the  ridge 
soared  slowly  and  stately  a  fire  signal,  of  yellow 

205 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

glow.  Instantly  through  Ned's  mind  surged  the 
thought  that  the  village  was  alarmed,  Major  Elliot 
or  Colonel  Thompson  had  been  detected,  and  this  was 
a  flaming  arrow  to  spread  the  news  adown  the  valley. 
Next  would  come  the  volleys,  the  shouts,  and  the 
shrieks. 

"  A  rocket !  A  signal  rocket !  "  ejaculated  some 
body. 

"  How  long  it  hangs  fire !  Why  doesn't  it  burst  ?  " 
wondered  Adjutant  Moylan,  impatient. 

Up,  and  up,  and  up,  in  course  majestic,  it  floated 
higher,  changing  from  yellow  to  red,  and  from  red  to 
blue,  and  from  blue  to  lemon.  The  columns  watched, 
breathless,  eye  and  ear  set  for  the  downward  curve  or 
the  explosion.  The  general  spoke,  in  tone  glad. 

"  It's  a  star." 

"  Oh!  "  sighed  officer  and  men,  relaxed,  as  passed 
the  word. 

For  a  star  it  was,  now  flashing  white  across  the 
white  and  black;  a  morning  star  beautiful  beyond  de 
scription,  in  this  pure,  still  air.  It  seemed  like  an 
omen  of  peace,  but  it  brooded  over  a  scene  of  war. 

The  light  in  the  east  had  widened.  From  mouth 
to  mouth  the  order  to  advance  was  given;  without 
bugle  note  the  columns  mounted  and  now  with  creak 
of  snow  began  to  climb  the  ridge.  Down  from  the 
crest  came  the  Osage  and  the  two  officers.  The  village 
still  slept,  unsuspicious. 

The  crest  was  reached.     Every  eye  sought  the 

206 


"GARRYOWEN"  AND  "CHARGE!" 

village  below.  Its  pointed  tipis  could  be  described, 
as  thick  as  young  cedars,  on  both  sides  of  the  curving 
stream.  The  pony  herd  was  restless,  at  the  approach 
of  day  following  the  long,  biting  night. 

Here  upon  the  crest  was  swiftly  formed  the  line 
of  battle,  for  the  charge.  Right  and  left  into  line  rode 
the  troopers,  for  squadron  front;  the  right  held  by 
Colonel  West,  the  left  by  Captain  Hamilton  and  the 
Cook  sharpshooters  who  were  to  fight  on  foot. 

"  Officers  and  men  will  remove  their  overcoats 
and  the  men  their  haversacks,  to  be  left  here  under 
guard  of  one  man  from  each  company,"  directed  the 
general,  tersely.  "  We  must  be  free  in  our  actions. 
Not  a  shot  is  to  be  fired  before  the  charge  is  sounded. 
Keep  those  dogs  here,  too." 

So  overcoats  and  haversacks  were  dropped;  and 
stripped  to  their  blouses  the  column  again  waited, 
breathing  hard. 

"  For — r'd — march !  "  The  low  command  trickled 
adown  the  long  line ;  and  more  by  sight  than  by  hear 
ing  the  line  obeyed.  From  the  crest  it  began  to  de 
scend;  and  if  all  was  going  well,  from  three  other 
points  three  other  lines  were  as  cautiously  closing  in 
on  the  doomed  village. 

The  general  led,  in  the  center,  with  Adjutant 
Moylan  beside  him,  Ned  behind.  A  few  paces  off  to 
the  rear  of  the  general's  right  was  Colonel  West, 
commanding  the  right  squadron.  Captain  Hamilton 
was  on  the  left. 

207 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Now,  men,  keep  cool,  wait  the  command,  fire  low 
and  not  too  rapidly,"  Ned  heard  him  caution,  in  clear, 
calm  tone. 

Sergeant-Major  Kennedy  of  the  non-commissioned 
staff  was  another  man  in  front  of  the  line.  Ned 
glimpsed  him  on  the  right. 

Just  before  the  center  of  the  line,  in  close  formation 
rode  the  band — every  man  with  his  instrument  poised, 
the  chief  musician's  cornet  at  his  lips,  prepared  to 
burst  into  "  Garryowen  "  at  first  signal  for  attack. 

The  foot  of  the  hill  was  reached;  the  pony  herd 
stared,  and  jostled  uneasily,  scenting  and  hearing  and 
seeing.  With  crackle  of  snow  they  moved  aside — and 
as  the  crackle  by  the  cavalry  mingled  with  the  crackle 
by  their  ponies,  the  village  slept  on,  suspecting  naught. 

Now  the  timber  ahead  was  the  goal;  for  in  the 
timber  was  the  main  collection  of  the  lodges.  A  few, 
above  and  below,  had  been  pitched  on  this  side  of  the 
stream ;  but  the  majority  were  across,  where  the  bank 
was  low  and  level. 

From  the  pony  herd  to  the  timber  fringe  was 
further  than  had  been  expected;  as  with  crackle  and 
slight  jingle  of  sabre  and  bit  the  line  moved  in  at 
eager  walk,  every  man  peering,  all  too  fast  brightened 
the  landscape.  The  tipis  glimmered  white;  from  the 
apex  of  some  curled  thin  smoke;  very  soon  would  the 
village  awake  to  the  routine  of  another  day.  How 
hard  they  slept — warrior  and  squaw  and  child  and 
even  dog! 

208 


"GARRYOWEN  "  AND  "CHARGE!" 

"  Another  deserted  village!  "  whispered  the  gener 
al,  to  Adjutant  Moylan. 

The  adjutant  nodded.  The  general  swept  a  glance 
along  his  line,  right  and  left;  he  straightened  more  in 
the  saddle,  his  right  hand  fell  to  the  butt  of  his  re 
volver,  projecting  from  holster;  evidently  the  time 
had  come,  and  in  a  few  moments  would  it  be  known 
whether  this  was  indeed  another  abandoned  village. 
Ned  raised  his  bugle  to  his  lips,  for  the  "  Charge  " ; 
but  even  while  he  was  drawing  breath,  in  readiness, 
smart  and  quick  rang  from  the  farther  side  of  the 
village  a  single  report  of  rifle!  The  alarm! 

What  a  change  burst  upon  the  slumberous  valley! 
Turned  in  his  saddle  the  general ;  with  a  word  his  voice 
smote  the  band  into  action. 

"  Garryowen !    Give  it  to  'em !  " 

No  longer  was  there  need  for  concealment.  Quite 
the  opposite.  Shattering  the  icy  air,  pink  with  near- 
ing  dawn,  into  full  cry  blared  the  doughty  band.  The 
men  cheered  wildly;  back  from  the  hills  beyond  the 
fated  village  hastened  like  an  echo  other  cheers. 

"Trot— march!" 

The  line  of  squadrons,  irregular  as  they  surged 
through  the  low  brush,  broke  into  the  trot.  Sabres 
jingled,  saddles  creaked;  carbines  were  at  the  "Ad 
vance,"  butt  on  thigh,  muzzle  up;  and  the  sharp 
shooters  must  run. 

The  trees  were  close  before.  The  tipis  were  plain. 
Dark  figures  were  darting  among  them.  Dogs  barked 

14  209 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

furiously.  From  the  other  side  of  the  village  pealed 
a  rattling  volley  of  carbines,  and  spread  to  a  steady 
clatter. 

The  general  stood  in  his  stirrups;  he  whirled 
Dandy  about,  and  swung  high  his  cap  above  his  yellow 
hair.  Over  the  clamor  of  band  and  of  cheer  his 
voice  rose  exultant. 

"Charge!" 

This  was  enough.  Ned  glued  his  lips  to  that  old 
bugle  and  from  puffed  cheeks  forced  his  very  soul 
into  the  wild  stirring  notes  of  the  "  Charge."  On 
right  and  on  left  the  company  bugles  answered.  For 
ward  sprang  the  horses,  awaiting  no  spur. 

Ned  was  conscious  that  the  band  had  dropped  back 
through  an  interval  of  the  squadron  behind;  they 
raced  on  past  it;  but  it  continued  to  play. 

Our  hearts  so  stout  have  got  us  fame, 
For  soon  'tis  known  from  whence  we  came ; 
Where'er  we  go  they  dread  the  name 
Of   Garryowen    in   glory. 

More  savagely  cheered  the  men.  Sergeant-Major 
Kennedy  (fine  soldier)  had  drawn  up  almost  even 
with  the  general  and  the  adjutant.  They  rode  with 
revolvers  held  aloft,  to  be  brought  down  to  the  deadly 
level.  Ned  blew  over  and  over  the  "Charge" — the, 
bugle  in  his  left  hand,  but  his  revolver  in  his  right. 

Now  they  struck  the  first  trees,  bordering  the 
stream  and  housing  the  sprinkling  of  tipis  on  this  side. 
Out  from  the  tipis  were  bursting  men  and  women — 

210 


"GARRYOWEN  "  AND  "CHARGE!" 

the  men  half  naked,  weapons  in  their  grasp,  the 
women  scurrying  with  their  frightened  children.  They 
saw  the  galloping  line  of  blue,  and  swerved  for  shelter 
of  tree  and  stream.  The  Indian  rifles  cracked  venom 
ously  into  the  very  faces  of  the  horses.  Ned  thought 
that  he  saw,  with  the  corner  of  his  eye,  Captain  Hamil 
ton  pitch  sideways  from  his  saddle.  But  the  Custer 
revolver,  and  the  revolvers  of  his  companions  jetted 
smoke,  and  with  a  roar  the  carbines  of  the  troopers 
drowned  every  noise,  almost  every  thought  save  the 
thought  of  fight. 

Back  were  swept  the  Indians — warriors  dodging, 
women  and  children  fleeing.  Driven  from  their  white 
lodges,  many  warriors  were  standing  waist-deep  in 
the  frozen  stream;  others  fought  from  cover  of  the 
high  bank;  others  from  the  trees  and  the  brush.  It 
was  hot,  fast  work.  Even  the  squaws  were  using 
rifle  and  bow.  Some  fell,  like  the  warriors,  shot  down 
in  the  act  of  bitter  defence.  It  could  not  be  avoided. 
Ned  fired  right  and  left,  but  whether  he  hit  anybody 
he  did  not  know. 

Now  the  line  was  well  into  the  first  collection  of 
tipis,  and  at  the  stream.  On  the  other  side  the  battle 
was  raging  fiercely;  and  into  the  stream  plunged  the 
reckless  squadron,  their  line  disorganized  but  still 
resistless.  Among  the  tipis  opposite  reared  a  single 
tipi  of  black,  which  must  be  the  tipi  of  the  chief,  old 
Black  Kettle.  But  old  Black  Kettle  was  lying  stark, 
shot  down  by  the  rapidly  riding  Koom-la-Manche. 

211 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

The  battle  had  developed  into  a  fight-at-will — into 
quick  shooting  among  the  tipis  and  the  trees,  cleaning 
them  out.  The  village  was  quickly  cleaned,  but  the 
struggle  had  only  begun.  In  the  village  were  now  the 
troops;  the  Indians  were  outside;  their  whoops  and 
their  firing  waxed  ever  more  furious.  The  Osage 
scouts  dashed  hither-thither,  answering  whoop  with 
whoop.  Little  Beaver's  face  was  convulsed  like  a 
demon's.  Sighting  him,  Ned  almost  fired  upon  him, 
but  stayed  his  hand  just  in  time.  In  the  melee  'twas 
hard  to  tell  friend  from  foe. 

Driven  in  by  the  cordon  of  troopers,  still  the 
trapped  Cheyennes  made  desperate  rushes,  to  gain 
cover.  On  a  sudden  Ned's  eyes,  roving  rapidly  among 
the  tipis,  were  halted  short  by  a  new  sight:  a  little 
white  girl  running!  A  little  white  girl — in  fringed 
buckskins  and  in  moccasins;  but  yet  a  little  white 
girl,  her  long  light  hair  floating  over  her  shoulders. 
;With  a  startled  shout  of  "Look!"  and  with  jab  of 
spur,  Ned  dashed  for  her. 

"Mary!"  he  called.  "Mary!  Here  I  am! 
Mary!"  " 

But  how  could  his  voice  be  heard,  amidst  the  hub 
bub  of  shot  and  cheer  and  whoop! 

The  fight  was  every  man  for  himself,  and  all  to 
gether  to  keep  the  Indians  from  breaking  away.  The 
grove  was  a  pandemonium.  Ned  had  dashed  forward 
alone.  He  passed  the  first  of  the  tipis  in  his  path; 
and  there  came  Mary,  fluttering  bravely,  dodging  hard ; 

212 


THE    BIG    INDIAN    WAS    A    FAIR    MARK.    BUT    THE    BULLET     MUST    NOT 
HIT  MARY 


"GARRYOWEN  "  AND  "CHARGE!" 

behind,  his  hand  even  now  outstretched,  his  counte 
nance  scowling  evilly,  was  a  large  Indian  warrior. 
Cut  Nose?  Maybe.  Who  he  was  did  not  matter. 

Again  Ned  shouted,  and  spurred  Buckie.  He 
leaned,  and  thrust  forward  his  revolver,  to  pull 
trigger.  The  big  Indian  was  a  fair  mark,  at  the 
short  range;  but  of  course  the  bullet  must  not  hit 
Mary.  Now  she  had  stumbled  on  a  tent  peg,  and  was 
down.  But  Buckie  was  almost  upon  her;  so  was  the 
Indian.  Strung  bow,  with  arrow  fitted,  was  in  his 
hand,  as  he  ran;  he  was  quick-witted,  for  at  token  of 
Ned  on  Buckie  disputing  his  claim  his  arrow  was 
instantly  at  his  eye,  bow-string  drawn  to  an  arc,  and 
iron  point  leveled  at  Ned's  breast. 

Ned  scarcely  had  time  to  check  Buckie,  fling  him 
self  to  one  side,  and  pull  trigger.  He  was  conscious 
that  the  twang  of  the  bow  and  the  bark  of  his  Colt's 
sounded  together.  Then  a  terrific  blow  in  the  face 
blinded  him  with  starry  red,  and  sent  him  dizzily  reel 
ing  down,  down.  His  feet  slipped  from  the  stirrups, 
and  he  landed  in  a  heap. 

He  must  not  stay  there.  His  head  was  numb  with 
the  shock,  but  his  mind  worked  f  renziedly.  What  was 
happening  to  Mary?  What  would  happen  to  himself? 
The  great  fear  of  the  scalping-knife  and  of  the  tear 
ing  by  cruel  hands  stung  him  more  than  did  the  pain 
now  increasing.  He  squirmed  to  his  knees,  revolver 
cocked,  and  tried  hard  to  see.  Before  his  one  eye  the 
tipis  swam  vaguely.  Was  he  here  alone?  Where 

213 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

were  the  other  troopers?  Was  that  light  spot  Mary? 
Was  Cut  Nose  coming?  Or  did  the  big  Indian  lie 
huddled  upon  the  trampled  snow  at  the  base  of  the 
tipi  on  the  right,  his  outstretched  ringers  touching  the 
little  girl  figure  whose  face  was  hidden  in  her  arms! 

Fast  Ned  crawled  across,  revolver  ready.  The  big 
Indian  did  not  stir ;  in  one  hand  his  bow  was  clutched 
splintered;  under  him  the  snow  was  reddening.  Ned 
threw  aside  his  wild-beast  caution. 

"  Mary!  "  he  called.     "  Get  up.     Quick." 

She  raised  her  head,  and  stared,  startled,  blue  eyes 
wide. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  quavered. 

"  I'm  Ned.    I'm  brother  Ned.    I'll  save  you." 

"  Oh,  Ned ! "  she  cried,  scrambling  to  him. 
"  You're  hurt !  You've  got  an  arrow  sticking  right 
in  your  head." 

Ned  put  up  his  hand,  in  haste  to  feel.  His  ringers 
met  the  feathered  end  of  an  arrow,  jutting  from  his 
face.  An  excruciating  pain  sped  through  his  head  and 
down  his  back;  and  frightened,  he  fainted. 


XVII 

AFTER  THE  BATTLE 


NED  did  not  stay  unconscious  long.  He  was  half- 
conscious.  He  dimly  heard  the  pleading  voice  of  little 
Mary,  he  felt  her  caresses,  he  was  aware  that  the 
shots  and  the  shouts  and  the  whoops  continued,  he 
felt  the  throbbing  pain  of  his  wound,  he  felt  himself 
lifted  and  carried,  lax,  and  deposited  again;  and  he 
felt  a  sharper,  sickening  agony  as  fingers  manipulated 
the  arrow,  while  a  kindly  voice  soothed  him.  That 
must  be  the  surgeon,  Dr.  Lippincott. 

He  shut  his  lips  firmly,  not  even  to  groan.  It  was 
the  part  of  the  soldier  to  bear  pain ;  and  if  he  was  only 
a  boy,  he  also  was  a  soldier.  A  "  snip  "  sounded, 
upon  the  arrow,  and  for  a  moment  the  shock  was 
almost  too  much  to  stand.  Then  the  shaft  was  gently 
but  firmly  slipped  from  the  hole.  The  surgeon  had 
cut  off  the  head  and  had  drawn  the  arrow  out  back 
ward,  for  the  point  was  of  course  barbed. 

"  You'll  do  nicely,  my  lad,"  spoke  the  surgeon. 
"  It's  only  a  flesh  wound.  It  followed  outside  the 
skull.  Good!" 

Soft  touch  applied  a  bandage. 

"Can't  you  see,  Ned?  Please  see!"  implored 
little  Mary. 

215 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Ned  rallied  and  opened  his  one  eye.  He  was  bol 
stered  up,  on  a  heap  of  buffalo-robes.  Mary  was  try 
ing  to  hug  him.  He  hugged  Mary.  They  were  in 
an  open  space  amidst  the  tipis,  where  the  field  hospital 
had  been  established.  Around-about  them  were  other 
wounded  soldiers.  Colonel  Barnitz  was  lying  near, 
as  pale  as  if  dead.  Doctor  Lippincott  and  his  assist 
ants  were  busy  here  and  there. 

The  rattle  of  rifle  and  carbine,  the  quick  orders, 
the  defiant  yells,  betokened  desperate  battle.  The 
strains  of  "  Garryowen  "  sounded  wild  and  inspiring, 
as  the  band,  posted  on  a  little  knoll  by  the  village, 
played  on  and  on.  But  higher,  more  piercing,  pene 
trating  all  the  clamor,  not  unlike  the  howl  of  wolves 
rose  an  incessant  chant — the  mourning  wail  of  sor 
rowing  squaws. 

The  charge  had  been  successful.  The  troops  had 
the  village.  Now  the  surrounding  hills  were  alive 
with  Indians ;  the  soldiers  were  in  the  center ;  and  the 
day  was  not  yet  noon. 

Rapidly  came  the  news,  brought  in  by  the  wounded, 
or  drifting  in  hap-hazard  from  hurrying  fighters. 
Captain  Hamilton  had  been  killed — shot  through  the 
heart  in  battle,  just  as  he  had  desired  as  a  soldier's 
end.  Bluff  Colonel  Alfred  Barnitz  was  desperately 
wounded  by  a  ball  through  the  body.  Lieutenant 
Colonel  Tom  Custer  had  been  wounded,  and  Lieu 
tenant  March.  Nothing  had  been  seen,  since  the  first 

216 


AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

attack,  of  Major  Elliot  or  Sergeant-Major  Kennedy. 
Black  Kettle  and  Chief  Little  Rock  were  slain.  Major 
Benteen  had  encountered  Black  Kettle's  young  son, 
not  fourteen  years  of  age,  and  after  being  fired  upon 
repeatedly  by  him  and  having  his  horse  shot  under 
him,  had  been  obliged  to  shoot  back  and  kill  the 
gallant  young  warrior.  Squaws  and  children  had 
fought  wickedly,  helping  the  warriors.  One  squaw, 
fleeing  with  a  captive  little  white  boy,  had  stabbed 
him  rather  than  surrender  him.  She  had  been  shot 
down  at  once;  but  too  late.  Romeo  the  interpreter 
had  gathered  the  captive  squaws  into  a  large  tipi,  and 
California  Joe  had  herded  nine  hundred  ponies.  This 
was  the  Cheyenne  village,  with  a  few  Arapaho  and 
Sioux  tipis  in  it.  But  one  of  the  squaws  had  informed 
the  general  (who  was  unharmed)  that  below  the  Chey 
enne  village  extended  for  ten  miles  the  villages  of  the 
Kiowas  and  of  the  Comanches,  more  Cheyennes,  the 
Arapahos,  and  some  Apaches.  Aroused  by  runners 
and  by  the  noise  of  conflict,  these  warriors  were  rally 
ing  by  the  hundreds  to  the  attack  and  the  rescue. 

Captain  Smith  came  riding  hastily  through;  by 
the  motions  of  his  hand  he  was  counting  the  tipis ;  and 
he  was  in  a  hurry  because  every  now  and  then  some 
angry  squaw  shot  at  him. 

"  Fifty-one,"  he  called,  to  an  orderly. 

General  Custer  himself  appeared,  flushed  and 
energetic,  on  Dandy  plashed  with  froth  and  frozen 
mud  and  water. 

217 


"Hello,"  he  cried,  at  sight  of  Ned.     "Hurt?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  and  Ned  tried  to  salute." 

"Bullet?" 

"  No,  sir.    Arrow." 

"  It  didn't  go  through  his  head,"  piped  little  Mary, 
bravely.  "  It  just  stuck  there." 

"  I've  found  my  sister,  sir,"  informed  Ned,  eager 
to  let  him  know. 

"  Good !  "  And  the  busy  general  turned  to  other 
matters.  His  eagle  glance  measured  the  hospital. 
"  You  must  get  ready  to  move  out  of  here,  doctor," 
he  said.  "  We  sha'n't  stay." 

"All  right,  general." 

And  the  Yellow  Hair  dashed  away. 

More  and  more  Indians  were  gathering  upon  the 
ridges  around  the  village.  The  head-dresses  of  the 
warriors  could  be  seen.  Word  came  that  the  over 
coats  and  the  haversacks  which  had  been  left  by  the 
center  column  when  it  advanced  were  captured  and  that 
the  guard  was  obliged  to  scud  hard  for  escape.  Blucher 
the  stag-hound  had  run  out  among  the  Indians,  think 
ing  that  they  were  yelling  for  a  hunt;  and  now  he 
stiffened  up  there,  with  an  arrow  through  him.  Maida 
had  not  been  hurt. 

That  was  bad,  to  lose  the  overcoats  and  the  haver 
sacks  of  rations — although  of  course  here  in  the  village 
was  plenty  of  furs  and  food.  But  what  of  the  supply 
train,  which  Lieutenant  Mathey  was  bringing  on? 
From  the  hills  the  Indians  would  soon  sight  it,  and 

218 


AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

while  a  thousand  of  them  fought  the  cavalry,  another 
thousand  would  attack  the  eighty  men  guarding  the 
wagons. 

The  warriors  surrounding  the  village  did  not  seem 
ready  to  storm  it  and  retake  it;  while  a  circle  of  the 
troopers,  dismounted,  kept  them  at  long  range,  field 
squads  sought  among  the  tipis  for  the  dead  and  the 
wounded  on  both  sides. 

A  lull  had  occurred  in  the  fighting.  Now  200 
soldiers  were  set  at  work  heaping  high  the  plunder 
from  the  tipis,  and  tearing  the  tipis  down,  to  burn 
them.  General  Custer,  in  plain  view,  on  restless 
Dandy,  delivering  rapid  orders  right  and  left  to  his 
aides,  received  report  of  the  battle  results. 

There  were  875  ponies  and  mules;  241  saddles, 
some  (as  could  be  seen  in  the  pile  gathered)  very 
finely  decorated;  573  dressed  buffalo  robes — some  of 
these,  also,  very  fine;  390  lodge  hides;  160  raw  robes, 
untanned;  thirty-five  bows,  thirty-five  revolvers, 
forty-seven  rifles,  360  axes  and  hatchets,  twelve 
shields,  seventy-five  lances,  ninety  bullet  molds, 
thirty-five  pounds  of  powder,  1050  pounds  of  lead, 
300  pounds  of  bullets,  4000  arrows  and  arrow-heads, 
470  Government  blankets,  ninety-three  coats,  775 
hide  lariats  or  picket-ropes,  940  skin  saddle-bags,  700 
pounds  of  tobacco,  and  moccasins  and  dried  meat  and 
flour  and  so  forth. 

One  hundred  and  three  Indians  had  been  killed, 
including  sixteen  chiefs ;  three  squaws  and  a  boy  and 

219 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

two  girls  had  been  wounded;  fifty-three  were 
prisoners.  Captain  Hamilton  had  been  killed,  and 
three  other  soldiers;  Colonel  Barnitz,  Colonel  Tom 
Custer,  Lieutenant  March,  and  eleven  men  wounded; 
Major  Elliot  and  Sergeant-Major  Kennedy  and  four 
teen  men  were  still  missing.  It  was  rumored  that 
they  had  pursued  some  Indians  escaping  down  the 
stream. 

After  a  few  things  had  been  picked  out,  to  keep, 
the  piles  of  lodges  and  belongings  were  set  on  fire. 
At  sight  of  the  flames,  from  the  Indians  upon  the  hills 
swelled  a  great  cry  of  rage,  and  down  they  came,  in 
party  after  party,  charging  the  cavalry  lines.  The 
general  ordered  his  mounted  squadrons  to  charge  back. 
Outfought,  the  Indians  were  forced  to  open  a  way 
wherever  led  the  guidons.  Thus  breathing  space  was 
again  given. 

The  whole  column  was  being  put  in  marching 
formation.  The  hospital  had  been  broken — when  now 
from  the  column's  rear  sounded  sharp  volleys,  and 
continued  heavy  firing. 

An  attack?  Or  was  it  Major  Elliot  and  men 
cutting  their  way  through  to  join  their  comrades? 
Or  was  it  the  supply  train,  in  peril?  No.  Swiftly 
passed  the  word  that  the  general  had  directed  that  all 
the  captured  ponies  and  mules  be  shot,  except  those 
needed  to  carry  the  prisoners.  Eight  hundred  were 
being  killed,  by  four  companies  detailed  to  do  the 
firing. 

220 


AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

This  was  cruel,  but  necessary  in  war.  What  could 
the  column  do,  with  all  those  wild  ponies  and  mules? 
The  Indians  would  fight  fiercely  to  retake  them;  the 
Indians  would  be  badly  crippled,  without  them.  So 
the  general  had  set  his  heart  hard,  and  had  given  the 
order.  When  the  firing  ceased,  all  the  column  was 
glad,  for  killing  horses  is  not  soldiers'  work. 

Major  Elliot  and  his  fifteen  had  not  been  heard 
from.  To  delay  and  seek  them  might  mean  the  loss 
of  the  whole  column  and  of  the  supply  train.  How 
thick  the  Indians  were  swarming !  Kiowa,  Comanche, 
Arapaho  and  Apache  and  Cheyenne,  in  their  war 
dress  they  were  rallying  to  avenge  their  fellows. 
Upon  the  tops  of  the  hills  they  had  posted  lookouts, 
to  watch  the  country  around  about,  and  the  next 
movement  of  the  invaders. 

It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  battle 
had  lasted  nine  hours.  At  signal  from  the  general 
pealed  clear  and  defiant  the  bugle  call  of  "  Ad 
vance  " ;  "  For — r'd — march !  "sounded  the  command. 

The  worst  wounded,  and  the  body  of  Captain 
Hamilton  wrapped  in  a  blanket,  were  in  the  ambu 
lance.  Ned  could  ride  his  horse;  and  beside  him 
rode  upon  a  pony  little  Mary,  with  her  Indian  finery 
and  her  white  girl  face  and  hair.  The  Osage  scouts 
bearing  many  scalps — the  mourning  warrior  now  in 
war-paint  like  the  rest — led;  the  captive  squaws  and 
children,  on  ponies,  under  guard  closed  in  at  the  rear. 
Skirmishers  rode  the  flanks. 

221 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Thus,  in  close  order,  with  flags  streaming  and  band 
playing,  as  if  to  attack  the  other  villages  down  the 
stream  forth  from  the  battle-field  and  the  lodge  ashes 
marched  all  boldly  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 

Away  hastened  the  Indians,  to  rescue  what  they 
could  before  the  merciless  Chief  with  the  Long  Yellow 
Hair  should  strike  there  also.  They  went  scurrying 
down  the  valley,  and  the  most  of  them  disappeared. 
But  the  Yellow  Hair  was  wily.  When  darkness  fell, 
without  having  attacked  the  other  villages  he  turned 
his  men  about,  and  on  the  back  trail  marched  fast 
until  two  in  the  morning.  The  men  without  over 
coats  or  haversacks  suffered.  Colonel  West  was  sent 
on  to  meet  the  wagon  train  and  reinforce  it;  the  rest 
of  the  column  camped  about  huge  fires,  here  in  the 
valley  of  the  Washita  ere  yet  the  trail  veered  off  for 
the  Canadian,  northward. 

The  Osages  hung  their  captured  scalps  to  a  pole 
in  front  of  their  fire,  and  discharged  several  volleys 
over  them.  Highest  of  all  was  hung  Black  Kettle's 
grayed  scalp,  the  prize  of  the  proud  young  brave 
Koom-la-Manche. 

This  shooting,  explained  California  Joe,  who  knew 
everything,  was  done  to  drive  away  the  spirits  of  old 
Black  Kettle  and  the  others,  who  would  be  hovering 
about,  trying  to  take  their  scalps  back  again. 

California  Joe  was  in  great  glee,  and  talked 
constantly. 

"  Fightin'  ? "  he  demanded,   for  general  answer. 

222 


AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

"  Call  that  fightin'  ?  I  call  it  jest  reg'larly  wipin'  out 
the  varmints.  Yes,  an'  sich  a  one  as  they  won't  hev 
agin,  I  tell  ye.  I  rather  'spec'  now  them  Injuns 
would  be  powerful  glad  to  call  it  quits  for  a  spell." 

Joe  seemed  to  be  right,  for  morning  broke  clear, 
cold,  but  peaceful.  At  noon  the  wagon-train  was  met 
safe  and  whole.  Hurrah  for  blankets  and  tents  and 
supplies. 

That  night  California  Joe  and  Jack  Corbin  rode 
off  with  dispatches  announcing  to  General  Sheridan 
the  battle  of  the  Washita.  'Twould  be  a  long  perilous 
ride,  across  the  miles  of  hostile  wintry  country. 

The  wounded  were  doing  well.  Even  Colonel 
Barnitz,  who  was  thought  to  be  mortally  wounded, 
had  survived  all  the  jolting  and  according  to  the 
reports  of  Doctor  Lippincott  was  likely  to  recover. 
Ned's  head  of  course  ached  considerably,  and  he 
could  not  blow  his  bugle  or  use  the  eye  on  the 
bandaged  side,  but  he  was  able  to  ride,  and  soon 
would  be  as  good  as  new — save  for  the  scar.  He 
and  Mary  had  much  to  talk  about. 

When  Camp  Supply  was  almost  in  sight,  Cali 
fornia  Joe  and  Corbin  and  another  scout  came  riding 
with  answering  dispatches  from  headquarters.  Joe 
and  Jack  had  gone  through  in  thirty-six  hours,  travel 
ling  mostly  by  night ;  here  they  were  again. 

That  evening  at  guard-mount,  with  all  the  troops 
in  line,  by  direction  of  General  Custer,  Adjutant 
Moylan  read  the  dispatch  received  from  General 

223 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Sheridan:  "  General  Field  Orders  No.  6,"  dated 
"  Headquarters  Department  of  the  Missouri,  in  the 
Field,  Depot  on  the  North  Canadian,  at  the  Junction 
of  Beaver  Creek,  Indian  Territory,  November  29, 
1868." 

It  officially  announced  the  defeat  "  by  the  Seventh 
regiment  of  cavalry,  of  a  large  force  of  Cheyenne 
Indians,  under  the  celebrated  chief  Black  Kettle,  re- 
enforced  by  the  Arapahos  under  Little  Raven,  and  the 
Kiowas  under  Satanta,  on  the  morning  of  the  27th 
instant,  on  the  Washita  River,  near  the  Antelope  Hills, 
Indian  Territory;"  and,  like  all  such  official  reports 
of  engagements  in  the  army  or  navy  it  told  the  losses 
and  the  gains.  But  the  last  paragraph,  read  by  Adju 
tant  Moylan  in  voice  emphatic,  was  what  brought 
from  the  ranks  the  cheers : 

"  The  energy  and  rapidity  shown  during  one  of  the  heaviest 
snow-storms  that  has  visited  this  section  of  the  country,  with 
the  temperature  below  freezing  point,  and  the  gallantry  and 
bravery  displayed,  resulting  in  such  signal  success,  reflect  the 
highest  credit  upon  both  the  officers  and  men  of  the  Seventh 
Cavalry;  and  the  Major-General  commanding,  while  regretting 
the  loss  of  such  gallant  officers  as  Major  Elliot  and  Captain 
Hamilton,  who  fell  while  gallantly  leading  their  men,  desires 
to  express  his  thanks  to  the  officers  and  men  engaged  in  the 
battle  of  the  Washita,  and  his  special  congratulations  are 
tendered  to  their  distinguished  commander,  Brevet  Major- 
General  George  A.  Custer,  for  the  efficient  and  gallant  services 
rendered,  which  have  characterized  the  opening  of  the  campaign 
against  the  hostile  Indians  south  of  the  Arkansas. 
"  By  command  of 

"  Major-General  P.  H.  SHERIDAN." 
224 


AFTER  THE  BATTLE 

"  Hooray !  Hooray !  Hooray !  "  cheered  the 
ranks.  It  was  good  to  be  appreciated  by  such  a  soldier 
as  Phil  Sheridan. 

Word  was  sent  ahead  by  courier,  that  the  next  day 
the  expedition  would  enter  Camp  Supply,  and  soon 
everybody  knew  that  the  entry  was  to  be  made  in  style. 
There  was  a  busy  evening  and  early  morning  applied 
to  scouring  weapons  and  buttons  and  patching 
clothing. 

The  day  was  beautiful.  The  sun  shone  bright, 
the  snow  had  melted,  the  air  felt  warm.  Just  at  noon 
the  head  of  the  column  topped  the  ridge  below  which 
lay  Camp  Supply.  The  glad  firing  of  rifles,  by  the 
Osages,  who  led,  announced  that  the  camp  was  in 
sight. 

Over  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  and  down  the  long 
sunny  slope  into  the  tent-dotted  valley  marched  as  for 
review  the  victorious  eight  hundred.  General  Sheri 
dan  and  his  staff,  in  full  dress,  were  waiting,  posted 
on  their  horses  where  the  column  would  pass. 

First  rode  on  their  prancing  ponies  the  Osage 
scouts.  They  and  their  ponies  were  brightly  painted 
and  fluttered  with  strips  of  red  and  blue,  with 
feathers  and  trinkets;  they  had  donned  their  gayest 
finery;  from  their  spears  dangled  scalps — the  spear 
of  young  Koom-la-Manche  waving  the  scalp  of  Black 
Kettle.  As  they  rode  they  brandished  their  weapons, 
they  fired  their  guns,  and  sung  wild  songs  of  triumph. 
Little  Beaver  led.  He  tried  to  sit  stiff  and  proud; 

15  2«5 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

but  once  he  must  beat  his  swelling  chest  and  cry 
loudly :  "  They  call  us  Americans.  We  are  more. 
We  are  Osages !  " 

Behind  rode  in  a  line  the  white  scouts,  they  also 
proud,  but  California  Joe  on  his  old  mule  smoking 
his  black  pipe  as  usual. 

Then  came  the  Indian  families,  gazing  curiously, 
some  of  the  squaws  and  children  three  on  a  pony, 
many  in  blankets  scarlet  and  blue. 

Then  rode  the  general  and  his  staff.  After  them 
marched  the  band  playing  "  Garryowen."  In  columns 
of  platoons  followed  the  troops,  rank  by  rank,  their 
officers  in  command. 

Higher  rose  the  yells  and  chants  of  the  Osages; 
faster  California  Joe  puffed  his  pipe;  more  stirring 
played  the  band.  Weapons  sparkled,  the  bright 
blankets  and  the  Indian  ornaments  of  silver  and 
copper  gleamed,  the  sabres  flashed  in  a  "  present," 
as  rank  after  rank  the  victorious  column  passed  in  re 
view  before  General  Sheridan,  repeatedly  lifting  his 
cap. 

Not  the  least  prominent  in  the  ceremony  were  Ned 
and  the  other  wounded,  who  felt  themselves  heroes  all. 

Wlien  the  Seventh  had  gone  into  camp,  here  at 
the  rendezvous  again,  there  was  a  great  time  of  con 
gratulations  and  shaking  of  hands.  That  night  the 
Osages  gave  a  tremendous  scalp  dance,  which  lasted 
until  morning  and  kept  many  people  awake. 


226 


XVIII 
TO  THE  LAND  OF  THE  DAKOTAH 


THE  Seventh  went  into  camp  about  half  a  mile 
up  Beaver  Creek  from  the  log  stockade  of  Fort  Sup 
ply.  On  the  third  day  after,  the  body  of  Captain 
Louis  McLane  Hamilton  was  laid  to  rest  under  some 
cottonwoods  on  the  bank  of  the  creek.  It  was  a 
solemn  and  tender  military  funeral;  with  muffled 
drums  and  slow  march  by  the  band,  and  in  the  ambu 
lance  a  rude  board  casket  covered  with  the  American 
flag,  and  behind  the  ambulance  the  captain's  horse, 
draped  with  a  black  cloth,  and  bearing  the  empty 
saddle  and  the  cavalry  boots  upside  down.  Over  the 
grave  were  fired  three  volleys;  Odell  sounded  "  Taps." 

The  Nineteenth  Kansas  Volunteers  had  at  last 
struggled  in,  after  losing  by  cold  and  starvation  almost 
all  their  horses.  General  Sheridan  had  been  waiting 
only  for  the  Kansas  soldiers,  before  he  should  start 
out  himself,  with  General  Custer  and  all,  upon  another 
winter  march  against  the  Indians.  And  he  hoped  to 
get  some  news  of  Major  Elliot  and  fifteen  men. 

However,  it  was  decided  to  send  the  prisoners  and 
the  wounded  up  to  Fort  Hays;  and  as  Ned  was  not 

227 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

yet  fit  for  duty  (the  arrow  had  made  two  large  holes, 
one  over  his  left  eye,  where  it  had  gone  in,  and  the 
other  over  his  left  ear,  where  it  had  come  out),  up  to 
Fort  Hays  must  he  go.  Little  Mary  of  course  went, 
too. 

On  the  seventh  of  December,  scarce  a  week  after 
the  Seventh  had  marched  in,  out  marched  again  the 
famous  "  pony-soldiers,"  together  with  the  infantry 
or  "  walk-a-heaps."  General  Sheridan,  whom  the 
Indians  styled  "  Little-Big-Short-Man-Ride-Fast," 
accompanied  the  column,  but  "  Old  Curly  "  ("  Creep 
ing  Panther,"  "  Strong  Arm,"  "  Long  Yellow  Hair  ") 
was  in  command.  They  headed  into  the  southward. 
For  the  northward  trailed  the  invalids  and  the  Chey 
enne  prisoners,  under  escort. 

From  the  field  reports  came  regularly  through  to 
Fort  Hays.  On  the  march  southward  the  battle-field 
of  the  Washita  had  been  revisited.  Two  miles  below 
the  Black  Kettle  village  were  discovered,  in  one  little 
space  of  frozen  ground,  the  disfigured  bodies  of  the 
lost  Major  Elliot  and  Sergeant-Ma j or  Kennedy,  and 
the  fourteen  others.  Piles  of  cartridge  shells  showed 
that  they  had  fought  staunchly  until  one  by  one  they 
had  fallen.  The  Indians  hastening  to  the  rescue  of 
Black  Kettle  must  have  surrounded  them. 

The  Comanches  and  Apaches  gathered  upon  the 
reservation.  Satanta  and  Lone  Wolf  the  Kiowa  war- 
chief,  were  captured,  and  all  the  Kiowas  came  in. 
So  did  the  Arapahos.  And  after  to  the  Strong  Arm, 

228 


TO  THE  LAND  OF  THE  DAKOTAH 

as  they  now  called  the  general,  they  had  surrendered 
two  young  white  women,  Mrs.  Wilson  and  Miss 
tWhite,  so  did  the  most  of  the  Cheyennes. 

The  campaign  had  been  a  success;  the  battle  of 
the  Washita  had  shattered  the  tribes  of  the  Southwest 
Plains. 

Upon  a  bright  day  in  March,  1869,  to  the  tune  of 
"  Garryowen  "  the  travel-worn  Seventh  Cavalry  rode 
blithely  home  into  Fort  Hays.  They  brought  more 
Cheyenne  prisoners,  and  more  tales. 

A  new  officer  was  in  command  at  Fort  Hays.  He 
was  General  Nelson  A.  Miles,  just  appointed  colonel 
of  the  crack  Fifth  Infantry,  but  in  the  Civil  War  he 
had  been  a  cavalry  officer.  He  sent  out  his  Fifth 
Infantry  band  (a  good  one)  to  greet  the  Seventh,  and 
with  "  Garryowen  "  to  escort  it  into  camp. 

Clad  all  in  buckskin,  and  still  wearing  his  wide- 
collared  blue  shirt  with  the  stars  on  the  points,  and  his 
crimson  necktie,  General  Custer  led,  on  Dandy.  He 
had  grown  a  beard,  during  the  winter;  of  bright  red, 
and  not  very  handsome.  Clad  in  buckskin  were  many 
of  the  officers.  The  wagons  were  laden  with  trophies 
of  robe  and  shield  and  embroidered  shirt  and  savage 
weapon.  California  Joe  smoked  his  black  pipe. 

Now  back  beside  Big  Creek,  near  to  Fort  Hays, 
where  they  had  camped  in  the  early  summer  of  1867, 
the  Seventh  Cavalry  might  enjoy  a  long  rest;  for 
the  plains  were  quiet. 

Mrs.  Custer  had  hastened  out  from  Fort  Leaven- 

229 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

worth,  where  she  had  been  waiting;  came  with  her,  to 
join  the  "  gin'nel,"  Eliza  the  cook  and  Henry,  negro 
coachman.  Came  wives  of  other  officers.  Mrs. 
Miles,  married  only  a  year,  already  was  at  the  post. 

It  looked  as  if  the  Indian  troubles  were  over. 
Only  in  the  north  the  powerful  Sioux  were  independ 
ent  of  the  white  man.  But  they  had  their  own  great 
region  wherein  to  roam,  and  wherein  white  people 
were  forbidden. 

Ned's  wound  had  rapidly  healed.  Little  Mary 
was  placed  with  a  kind  family  at  Leavenworth.  The 
Seventh  were  quartered  at  Fort  Leavenworth  for  the 
winter  of  1869-1870;  they  spent  the  following  sum 
mer  on  the  plains,  in  scouting  and  other  routine  work, 
varied  by  buffalo  hunting,  and  in  March,  of  1871, 
they  were  transferred  to  Kentucky  and  South  Caro 
lina.  Here,  at  small  posts,  they  were  to  help  break 
up  unauthorized  whiskey  manufactories,  and  a  secret 
society  called  the  Ku  Klux  Klan,  which  interfered 
with  the  rights  of  Northern  citizens  and  negroes.  This 
was  not  soldierly  work  such  as  serving  on  the  plains, 
and  the  Seventh  did  not  feel  particularly  pleased. 

The  scouts,  too,  were  well  scattered.  California 
Joe  had  disappeared.  Reports  said  that  he  had  gone 
into  the  mountains.  Wild  Bill  Hickok  had  been 
attacked  by  some  unruly  soldiers,  and  as  a  result  of 
his  terrible  defence  with  his  deadly  weapons  he  had 
been  obliged  to  leave  Hays.  He  had  become  marshal 
at  Abilene — another  rough  and  ready  town,  further 

230 


TO  THE  LAND  OF  THE  DAKOTAH 

east  on  the  railroad.  Romeo  had  married  into  the 
Cheyennes,  with  whom  he  was  living.  Buffalo  Bill 
Cody  was  attached  to  the  Fifth  Cavalry. 

As  for  Ned,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  ought  to 
stay  near  Mary.  So  he  was  granted  his  discharge 
(with  honor)  from  the  army,  and  found  a  Govern 
ment  position  in  the  quartermaster  department  at 
Fort  Leavenworth.  Here  he  might  mingle  with  the 
soldier  life  that  he  loved,  and  also  watch  after  Mary. 
She  was  doing  finely,  and  growing  into  a  large  girl. 

Once  Ned  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  general, 
when  in  the  spring  of  1872,  the  general  was  returning 
from  a  big  buffalo  hunt  on  the  plains  with  the  Grand 
Duke  Alexis  of  Russia.  Custer  had  been  assigned 
as  his  escort,  by  General  Sheridan.  Buffalo  Bill 
had  been  the  guide.  The  hunt  was  a  great  success, 
and  the  Grand  Duke  was  much  pleased. 

Another  year  passed — and  suddenly  spread  the 
news  that  the  Seventh  Cavalry  were  once  more  to 
take  the  field.  They  were  ordered  to  assemble  and  as 
a  regiment  together  to  proceed  to  Fort  Rice,  among 
the  Sioux  of  Dakota  Territory. 

That  news  was  enough  for  Ned.  It  set  his  blood 
to  tingling,  it  set  his  thoughts  to  dancing,  it  filled  his 
eyes  with  pictures  of  camp  and  of  march  and  of  an 
alert,  lithe,  soldierly  figure  whose  keen  blue  eyes  and 
long  yellow  hair  and  clarion  voice  no  boy  ever  could 
forget,  any  more  than  he  could  forget  the  cavalry 
guidons  waving  in  the  charge. 

231 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Ned  re-enlisted,  with  request  that  he  be  assigned 
again  to  the  Seventh.  And  as  he  was  a  "  veteran," 
and  as  the  Seventh  needed  more  men,  for  field  ser 
vice,  he  was  ordered  to  report  to  his  regiment  at 
Omaha.  There,  the  middle  of  March,  with  a  few 
genuine  recruits  he  was  waiting  at  the  station  when  in 
pulled  the  first  section  of  the  long  train  which  bore 
the  famous  Seventh  Cavalry,  en  route  from  the  States 
to  the  best-beloved  frontier. 

Out  from  the  cars  boiled  the  blue  blouses  and  the 
yellow  stripes !  There  was  the  general — first,  as  usual. 
He  was  wearing  the  regulation  fatigue  uniform,  in 
stead  of  buckskin;  he  had  cut  his  hair;  he  seemed 
whiter  than  when  on  the  plains :  but  he  was  the  same 
quick,  bold,  active  spirit.  And  there  was  Mrs.  Custer, 
with  other  ladies.  And  there  was  "  Queen's  Own  " 
Cook — and  Lieutenant  Tom — and  Captain  Benteen — 
and  all  the  old  officers,  and  several  new  ones.  And 
there,  poking  out  of  the  car  windows  and  thrust  from 
the  steps,  were  familiar  faces  and  forms  of  comrades. 

Ned  must  report  to  the  adjutant,  who  proved  to  be 
Lieutenant  Calhoun.  Then  might  he  be  greeted  by 
friends.  He  even  had  the  pleasure  of  saluting  the 
general,  and  having  his  hand  shaken  while  the  general, 
and  Mrs.  Custer,  asked  about  himself  and  about 
Mary,  and  said  that  they  were  glad  to  have  him  back 
again.  Finally  he  found  Odell,  who  was  in  the  band ; 
and  from  Odell  might  he  receive  all  the  news. 

"  No  more  chasm'  moonshiners  and  playin'  police- 

232 


TO  THE  LAND  OP  THE  DAKOTAH 

man  for  the  Sivinth,  b'gorry,"  declared  Odell.  "  You 
were  well  out  of  it,  me  boy;  an'  now  you've  joined 
us  jist  in  time.  As  soon  as  we  get  to  Yankton  of 
Dakota,  which  be  the  end  o'  the  railroad,  then  'tis 
*  Boots  and  Saddles '  once  more  in  earnest,  with  a 
six  hundred  mile  march  ahead  of  us.  Faith,  won't 
it  seem  good !  An'  'tis  what  we're  all  nadin'.  We're 
soft." 

"  Wonder  %  what  we'll  do  up  in  Dakota,"  invited 
Ned,  bluffly.  "  Scout  around  and  watch  the  Sioux?  " 

"  Well,  they'll  warrant  watchin',  or  I'm  mistaken," 
retorted  Odell.  "  People  may  think  this  little  war 
we  had  with  the  Cheyennes  was  good  fightin'.  But 
I  tell  ye,  up  there  in  the  Dakota  country  there  be 
waitin'  some  fights  to  make  the  battle  of  the  Washita 
seem  like  a  skirmish.  Forty  thousand  Sioux,  in  a  big 
country  they  know  and  we  don't  know,  won't  be 
ousted  in  a  hurry.  I  tell  ye,  these  Sioux  people  are 
the  biggest  Injun  con-fidderation  on  the  continent. 
There's  no  nonsense  about  'em." 

"But  what's  the  trouble,  anyhow?"  ventured  to 
ask  one  of  the  recruits.  "  Whose  country  it  is?  " 

"  The  Sioux',"  answered  Odell.  "  Sure;  it  belongs 
to  the  Sioux.  In  Sixty-eight  didn't  the  Government 
agree  by  treaty  to  close  the  wagon  rcfad  through  it 
and  quit  the  forts  in  the  Powder  River  country,  and 
give  it  to  the  Sioux  forever?  And  already  aren't 
the  white  men  sneakin'  in  whenever  they  get  the 
chance,  and  miners  bound  to  explore  the  Black  Hills  ; 

233 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

and  with  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  reachin'  Bis 
marck,  Dakota,  'tis  not  a  wagon  road  but  an  iron 
road  that  be  threatenin'  to  cross  the  sacred  soil.  With 
that,  and  the  rotten  rations  served  out  at  the  agencies, 
I  don't  blame  the  Injuns  for  complainin'.  Faith,  I 
may  fight  'em,  but  they  have  my  sympathies." 

"What  kind  of  a  country  is  that,  up  north?" 
asked  the  recruit. 

"  Well,  'tis  a  bad-lands  and  butte  country,  broken 
to  washes,  with  the  Black  Hills  mountains  in  the 
southwest  corner  and  the  Powder  River  and  Yellow 
stone  regions  beyant.  The  Sivinth  may  think  the  Kan 
sas  plains  blew  hot  and  cold,  bedad;  but  up  yonder  is 
a  stretch  where  it's  nine  months  winter  and  three 
months  late  in  the  fall,  and  the  wind  blows  the  grass 
up  by  the  roots." 

Again  a  cavalry  trumpeter,  Ned  was  assigned 
to  B  Troop,  Lieutenant  Tom's.  Of  course,  Ned  could 
not  expect  to  be  the  general's  favorite  orderly,  again ; 
at  least,  not  right  away.  He  was  a  man,  and  must 
serve  his  turn,  like  the  other  men.  But  being  one  of 
the  dashing,  light-hearted  Tom  Custer's  trumpeters 
was  next  thing  to  being  the  general's. 

Lieutenant  Calhoun  had  married  Miss  Margaret 
Custer,  the  general's  sister.  She  and  Mrs.  Custer 
rode  with  the  general  and  his  staff,  at  the  head  of  the 
column.  Down  in  Kentucky  the  general  had  collected 
many  more  dogs;  and  had  bought  a  thoroughbred 
horse  named  Vic  to  be  companion  to  faithful  Dandy. 

234 


TO  THE  LAND  OF  THE  DAKOTAH 

Eliza  the  black  cook  had  not  come,  this  time ;  but  there 
was  another  negress  cook,  named  Mary,  and  a  negro 
coachman,  named  Ham,  for  the  traveling  carriage  to 
which  Mrs.  Custer  and  Mrs.  Calhoun  sometimes 
changed. 

In  long,  long  column  of  twos  followed  by  the 
white-topped  army  wagons  the  Seventh  Cavalry 
threaded  its  way  northward  across  the  sagey  Dakota 
plains,  the  willows  and  cotton  woods  of  the  muddy 
Missouri  ever  in  sight. 


XIX 
SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 


FORT  RICE  was  located  ten  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  Cannon-Ball  River  and  twenty  miles  below  the 
new  town  of  Bismarck.  Around-about  the  slate- 
colored  frame  buildings  stretched  the  sagey  Dakota 
plains,  seemingly  vaster  and  barer  even  than  the  roll 
ing  buffalo  plains  of  Kansas.  Butte  and  coulee  or 
dry  wash  broke  them;  the  only  trees  were  along  the 
water  courses.  The  winds  were  fresh  and  strong, 
the  short  summers  hot,  the  long  winters  cold.  It  was 
a  country  that  bred  strong,  hardy,  robust  men  and 
women,  and  such  were  the  Sioux — the  proud  Dakota 
nation. 

The  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  from  St.  Paul  had 
reached  Bismarck,  and  was  determined  to  push  on 
across  Dakota  and  Montana,  as  the  Union  Pacific  had 
pushed  on  across  Nebraska  and  Wyoming.  Scarcely 
had  the  Seventh  Cavalry  been  welcomed  at  Fort  Rice, 
when  they  prepared  to  take  the  long  trail  again,  as 
escort  to  protect  the  engineers  surveying  a  route  west 
ward  for  the  railroad. 

So  when  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  engineers 
started  upon  their  survey  westward  still,  their  escort 
numbered  almost  2000  soldiers:  of  the  Seventh 

236 


SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 

Cavalry,  of  infantry,  of  artillery,  and  of  Indian  scouts, 
all  under  Major-General  D.  S.  Stanley,  with  General 
Custer  the  "  Long  Hair "  in  command  of  the  ten 
companies  of  the  Seventh. 

It  was  to  be  a  march  clear  across  western  Dakota 
to  the  Yellowstone  River  of  Montana.  Few  white 
men  had  seen  this  country. 

The  Indian  scouts  were  not  the  faithful  Osages  or 
Kaws.  They  were  Arikaras;  a  war-like  tribe  of 
smaller  numbers  than  the  southern  Indians ;  their  head 
scout  was  Bloody  Knife.  They  hated  the  Sioux,  and 
so  did  the  Crows  of  Montana.  The  Sioux  long  had 
fought  the  Arikaras,  and  nowadays  were  constantly 
invading  the  country  of  the  Crows,  for  scalps  and 
horses. 

With  the  Seventh  were  Dr.  James  Honzinger,  the 
fat,  bald-headed  old  veterinary  surgeon  of  the  regi 
ment,  and  Mr.  Baliran  who  was  the  post  sutler.  They 
were  not  enlisted  men  but  were  civilian  employees,  and 
accompanied  the  expedition  as  an  outing.  The  general 
took  Mary  the  black  cook,  for  his  mess. 

It  required  a  month  of  marching  before,  July  19, 
the  Yellowstone  River  in  Montana  was  reached.  It 
had  seemed  much  like  old  times,  with  the  general 
leading  on  Dandy  or  Vic,  in  his  fringed  buckskins, 
his  fringed  gauntlets,  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  his  blue 
shirt  and  crimson  tie,  and  high,  red-topped  boots ;  the 
hounds  galloping  right  and  left,  and  plenty  of  hunting. 

The  engineer  party,  and  the  scientists  who  were 

237 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

along,  must  move  slowly,  taking  many  notes.  Dr. 
Honzinger  and  Mr.  Baliran  insisted  upon  straggling 
and  riding  apart  from  the  column,  picking  up  speci 
mens.  They  were  warned  that  this  was  dangerous 
practice,  but  they  did  not  heed,  and  refused  even  to 
carry  any  weapons. 

Near  where  the  Powder  River  empties  into  the 
Yellowstone  the  general  took  Captain  Moylan's  com 
pany  and  Lieutenant  Tom's  company,  and  Bloody 
Knife  the  Arikara  scout,  to  explore  the  route  ahead. 
No  Indians  had  yet  been  sighted;  but  now,  after  a 
mile  or  two,  Bloody  Knife,  stopping  short,  exam 
ining  the  ground,  signed :  "  Indians  have  passed 
here." 

So  they  had:  nineteen  Sioux,  by  the  fresh  sign. 
They  must  have  been  reconnoitering  the  camp,  and 
had  traveled  on  to  inform  the  main  company  of 
warriors. 

Nevertheless,  on  rode  the  little  squadron,  until 
from  the  bluffs  along  the  Yellowstone,  green  before 
them  lay  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Tongue  River  flow 
ing  up  from  the  south.  The  general  gave  orders  to 
make  camp  in  a  clump  of  cottonwood  trees,  and  to 
wait  for  the  column.  With  horses  unsaddled  and 
unbitted  and  staked  out,  and  pickets  posted,  the  com 
mand  stretched  out  upon  the  ground  for  a  rest.  Most 
of  the  officers  loosened  their  clothing  and  prepared 
to  nap. 

Ned  was  nodding,  half  asleep,  when  breaking  the 

238 


SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 

perfect  calm,  starting  everybody  with  a  jump,  spoke 
the  "Bang!  Bang!"  of  the  pickets'  carbines. 

"  Indians ! "  were  shouting  the  pickets'  voices. 

The  camp  was  on  its  feet,  peering  and  blinking. 
The  pickets  were  kneeling  and  aiming;  and  beyond 
them,  across  the  open  valley  were  riding  for  the 
tethered  horses  a  short  line  of  painted  horsemen. 

"  To  your  horses,  men !  Quick !  To  your  horses ! 
Run ! "  The  command  of  the  general  was  as  sharp 
as  the  crack  of  a  whip.  Shoeless  and  hatless  and  coat- 
less  he  stood,  rifle  in  hand. 

There  were  only  half  a  dozen  Indians  in  sight. 
Evidently  they  had  intended  to  stampede  the  mounts ; 
but  they  had  reckoned  without  their  host.  The 
Seventh  Cavalry  had  met  Indians  before.  Out  rushed 
the  troopers,  to  grasp  the  lariats  of  the  horses,  and  to 
reinforce  the  picket-line.  And  stopping  short,  the 
squad  of  Indians  only  raced  back  and  forth,  beyond 
range,  gesturing  as  if  inviting  the  soldiers  to  come  and 
get  them.  Sioux  they  were,  by  their  war-dress  and 
action,  said  Bloody  Knife,  his  eyes  flaming  hatred 
and  disdain. 

Now  was  it  "  Boots  and  Saddles  "  and  "  Mount." 
The  general  took  Adjutant  Calhoun  and  Lieutenant 
Tom  and  twenty  men,  including  Ned  the  trumpeter, 
and  galloped  forth  boldly;  Captain  Moylan  was  to 
follow. 

The  six  Sioux  easily  kept  out  of  reach.  As  any 
body  ought  to  know,  they  were  only  trying  cunningly 

239 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

to  lead  the  white  chief  on,  into  an  ambuscade.  So 
continued  the  chase,  up  the  grassy  green  valley. 

"  I'll  take  my  orderly  and  ride  ahead,  Tom," 
presently  called  the  general.  "  Perhaps  that  will  de 
velop  those  rascals'  plan.  You  follow  at  about  two 
hundred  yards  interval,  ready  to  rush  in." 

The  general  was  on  his  Kentucky  horse  Vic. 
Sergeant  Butler  his  orderly  had  a  good  horse,  too. 
But  the  Indians  would  not  let  even  them  close  in,  with 
the  other  soldiers  so  near  at  hand.  They  were  smart, 
these  six  Sioux,  and  knew  what  they  were  about. 

A  patch  of  timber  was  before  to  the  left.  The 
general  had  halted;  also  halted  the  six  Indians..  The 
general  rode  in  a  circle,  for  a  parley;  the  six  Indians 
paid  no  attention.  Now  here  came  Sergeant  Butler, 
back  with  a  message  from  the  general.  He  saluted 
Lieutenant  Tom. 

"  The  general's  compliments,  and  he  would  suggest 
that  you  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  that  bunch  of  trees, 
yonder,"  said  the  sergeant. 

"  Very  well,"  responded  Lieutenant  Tom. 

Sergeant  Butler  galloped  off. 

"  In  my  opinion,  that  brush  is  full  of  Sioux,  and 
those  six  bucks  would  be  only  too  glad  to  lead  us  past," 
said  Adjutant  Calhoun,  to  Lieutenant  Tom. 

"  The  general  had  better  join  us  or  we  him," 
answered  the  lieutenant,  gazing  anxiously.  "  He's  too 

near.  He's  liable "  but  from  all  the  detachment 

issued  a  sudden  cry. 

240 


SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 

The  six  Sioux  had  wheeled,  and  were  charging, 
and  from  the  timber  patch  had  burst,  as  if  at  a  breath, 
fully  three  hundred  others.  At  full  speed  they  came, 
whooping  and  firing,  and  in  splendid  line.  Evidently 
these  Sioux  were  fine  warriors. 

All  eyes  leaped  to  the  general.  Around  he  had 
whirled,  around  had  whirled  the  sergeant,  and  back 
they  were  spurring  for  dear  life.  They  were  three 
hundred  yards  from  the  timber,  almost  opposite  to 
them,  and  two  hundred  yards  from  the  soldiers. 

On  sped  the  line  of  Sioux,  dividing,  part  to  head 
of?  the  general,  part  to  ride  to  rear  of  the  detachment 
and  head  off  Captain  Moylan,  coming  from  behind. 

"  Prepare  to  fight  on  foot ! "  It  was  Lieutenant 
Tom's  clear  voice. 

From  the  saddle  swung  three  men  from  each 
squad,  leaving  Number  Four  to  hold  the  horses. 

"  As  skirmishers,  men !  Quick !  "  and  "  Company 
— halt !  "  issued  the  commands.  There  was  no  time 
for  regulation  orders.  Out  in  front  of  the  horses  had 
run  the  dismounted  men,  to  halt  in  loose  line,  kneel, 
and  without  waiting  for  more  orders,  to  aim. 

"  Don't  fire,  men,  until  I  give  the  word,"  spoke 
Lieutenant  Tom,  revolver  in  hand,  behind  the  line. 
"  Aim  low." 

Racing  in  toward  one  another  the  Sioux,  and  the 
general  and  Sergeant  Butler,  seemed  about  to  join. 
But  the  general  and  the  sergeant  were  beating.  They 
would  arrive  first.  Good! 

16  241 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

The  Sioux  were  well  within  range.  Their  war 
paint  and  their  feathers  showed  plain.  There  were 
enough  of  them  to  ride  over  the  little  line  of  cavalry 
and  trample  it  to  death.  Ned,  revolver  drawn  as  he 
knelt  at  the  rear  of  the  line,  felt  himself  trembling, 
although  he  was  not  afraid.  Out  rang  the  voice  of 
Lieutenant  Tom. 

"Let  them  have  it!" 

"  Crash !  "  belched  the  fifteen  carbines.  And  with 
smart  rattle  as  chambers  opened,  closed,  reloaded  they 
belched  again :  "  Crash !  "  Through  the  smoke 
Indian  horsemen  were  reeling  and  falling,  ponies  were 
sprawling  or  galloping  wildly ;  and  away  to  either  side 
were  scampering  the  Sioux  warriors. 

"  Bang !  Bang-bang !  Bang !  "  for  the  third  time 
roared  the  carbines.  "  Hooray !  Yah !  Yah !  " 
cheered  loudly  the  soldiers.  With  answering  cheer 
up  raced  at  full  speed  the  support  of  Captain  Moylan. 
Breathing  hard,  his  eyes  blazing  blue  from  his  red 
burned  face,  the  general  also  was  arrived  and  eager. 

"  Prepare  to  fight  on  foot ! "  shouted  Captain 
Moylan. 

The  Sioux  were  many;  the  soldiers  few;  but  with 
the  horses  protected  by  a  semi-circle  of  skirmishers 
they  steadily  fell  back  to  the  grove  of  the  noonday  nap. 
Yet  even  here  matters  might  have  gone  hard — for 
these  Sioux  were  determined  fighters — had  not  ap 
peared,  coming  on  with  cheers  and  guidons  flying, 

242 


SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 

four  more  companies  of  the  Seventh,  sent  ahead  by 
the  wise  General  Stanley.  And  the  Sioux  galloped 
away. 

The  companies  brought  bad  news.  That  morning, 
after  the  general  had  left,  along  the  line  of  march  had 
been  found  the  lifeless  bodies  of  Dr.  Honzinger  and 
Mr.  Baliran,  pierced  by  ball  and  by  arrow.  The  two 
cronies  had  wandered,  as  customary,  and  must  have 
been  two  miks  from  help  when  Indians — Sioux,  of 
course — had  struck  them  down. 

Two  soldiers  also  were  killed,  and  another  battle 
was  fought — a  longer,  harder  battle — with  more 
Sioux,  up  the  Yellowstone,  before,  the  last  week  in 
September,  the  Seventh  returned  again  to  barracks. 

These  were  new  barracks,  the  post  of  Fort  Abraham 
Lincoln,  built  this  summer  and  fall  beside  the  Missouri, 
above  Fort  Rice  and  opposite  the  town  of  Bismarck 
which  was  the  end  of  the  railroad. 

Fort  Abraham  Lincoln  belonged  to  the  Seventh 
Cavalry.  It  was  their  headquarters  post,  housing 
six  companies.  The  four  other  companies  on  Dakota 
duty  were  stationed  at  Fort  Rice. 

'Twas  rather  dull  being  a  soldier  at  Fort  Lincoln, 
or  Rice  either,  in  the  long,  snowy,  below-zero  winter. 
No  trains  came  into  Bismarck ;  mail  and  supplies  must 
arrive  by  horse  and  sleigh.  There  was  little  mounted 
drill  for  the  soldiers,  and  the  men  moved  about  well 
muffled  in  fur  caps  and  buffalo-hide  shoes  and  mittens. 

243 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  OUSTER 

Out  near  the  agencies  the  friendly  Sioux  gathered, 
waiting  till  spring;  and  further  in  the  reservation  had 
gathered  in  their  villages  the  unfriendly  Sioux,  under 
Sitting  Bull  the  medicine  chief.  But  who  was  friendly 
and  who  was  unfriendly  could  not  be  told;  so  that 
nobody  in  the  post  was  permitted  to  wander  beyond 
rifle  shot,  except  on  business. 

The  Arikara  or  Ree  scouts  and  their  families  were 
camped  at  the  edge  of  Fort  Lincoln.  Bloody  Knife 
the  chief  scout  was  the  general's  favorite.  The  best 
white  scout  at  Fort  Lincoln  was  "  Lonesome  "  Charley 
Reynolds.  He  had  long-lashed,  dark-blue  eyes,  and 
small,  fine  features.  He  was  quieter  than  even  Will 
Comstock;  and  rarely  spoke  unless  spoken  to.  He 
did  not  look  like  a  scout  or  act  like  a  scout,  yet 
he  was  one  of  the  bravest  men  of  the  West. 

In  the  spring  came  out  upon  a  visit  from  the  East 
another  Custer — Boston  Custer,  the  general's  youngest 
brother;  a  thin,  pale  stripling  about  the  age  of  Ned 
the  trumpeter.  He  did  not  look  well,  but  he  expected 
that  the  fresh  air  and  the  out-door  life  of  the  western 
plains  would  make  him  strong. 

When  the  spring  opened,  there  had  been  much  talk 
about  the  mysterious  Black  Hills,  which  the  Indians 
called  Pah-sap-pa.  The  newspapers  had  contained  a 
great  deal  of  reference  to  the  Black  Hills,  and  now  the 
frontier  people  of  Wyoming,  to  the  southwest  of  it, 
and  of  Dakota,  to  the  east  of  it,  were  asking  that  the 

244 


SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 

Government  let  explorers  in.  However,  this  was 
Sioux  country,  guaranteed  to  them  by  the  United 
States  in  the  treaty  of  1868;  and  it  was  very  dear 
Sioux  country. 

"  You  see,"  said  Charley  Reynolds,  in  one  of  the 
moments  when  he  talked  among  the  men,  "  it's  like 
this.  Now,  I've  never  been  in  the  Black  Hills — away 
in,  I  mean.  I've  no  doubt  there's  gold  there.  The 
rocks  look  so,  to  me;  and  trappers,  and  the  Injuns  too, 
say  there's  gold.  But  it's  medicine  country.  The 
Injuns  say  those  mountains  are  full  of  bad  spirits 
who  mustn't  be  disturbed.  The  fact  is,  it's  the  only 
good  country  the  Sioux  have.  Lots  of  timber  and 
fine  water  and  grass;  both  a  summer  and  a  winter 
country ;  and  the  Sioux  don't  mean  to  give  it  up.  You 
can't  blame  'em.  They  know  that  as  soon  as  the 
miners  get  in  there,  the  game  will  be  scared  out  or 
killed,  and  timber  cut,  and  water  spoiled,  and  the 
Indians  driven  off.  They  watch  that  region  mighty 
close." 

"  You're  right,  I  guess,"  agreed  Sergeant  Butler, 
and  Odell  also  nodded.  "  But  I'll  wager  my  buffalo 
coat  against  a  pipeful  of  tobacco  that  the  Government 
isn't  going  to  let  those  Black  Hills  stay  unexplored. 
The  army's  got  to  have  a  map  of  this  reservation,  so 
that  in  case  of  trouble  we  know  where  we're  going. 
Then  if  the  Injuns  retreat  into  the  Black  Hills,  we 
can  follow  'em." 

245 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Sure  enough,  when  the  plains  grew  green  with 
grass  the  report  spread  that  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was 
to  explore  the  Black  Hills,  distant  200  miles  southwest, 
in  air-line. 

The  orders  were  issued  June  8  from  the  Depart 
ment  of  Dakota  headquarters  at  St.  Paul,  by  command 
of  Brigadier-General  Alfred  H.  Terry,  the  Depart 
ment  commander.  The  four  companies  of  the  Seventh 
from  Fort  Rice  were  to  come  up  to  Fort  Lincoln,  and 
all  ten  companies  were  to  take  the  field  together. 
There  would  be  "  doughboys  "  or  "  walking  soldiers ;  " 
G  company  of  the  Seventeenth  Infantry  and  I  com 
pany  of  the  Twentieth;  a  squad  of  army  engineers 
under  Captain  William  Ludlow;  General  George  A. 
Forsyth  who  was  the  famous  "  Sandy  "  Forsyth  of 
the  island  fight  with  Roman  Nose,  near  the  Forks  of 
the  Republican;  Charley  Reynolds  the  scout;  Skunk 
Head  and  Bull  Bear  and  other  Rees  under  Bloody 
Knife;  and  some  Santee  Sioux  whose  chief  guides 
were  Goose  and  "  Jo  Lawrence." 

Boston  Custer,  or  "  Bos,"  announced  that  he  was 
to  go;  and  before  the  start,  arrived  two  scientists, 
engaged  by  the  Government:  Professor  N.  H.  Win- 
chell,  the  state  geologist  of  Minnesota,  and  Mr.  George 
Bird  Grinnell,  of  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  who  would 
report  upon  the  fossils  and  animals.  A  photographer 
of  St.  Paul  arrived,  to  take  pictures  on  the  trip;  and 
a  number  of  civilian  miners  attached  themselves  to 
the  column,  to  prospect  for  gold. 

246 


SCOUTING  AMONG  THE  SIOUX 

The  start  was  made  on  July  2.  The  expedition 
must  return  within  sixty  days.  It  made  a  formidable 
sight:  about  1000  men  in  all,  with  three  gatling  guns 
and  a  three-inch  rifled  cannon,  no  army  wagons  and 
ambulances,  and  the  forty  Custer  dogs! 

Agard  the  interpreter  and  Charley  Reynolds  said 
the  Indian  scouts  expected  that  the  white  people  would 
not  dare  to  enter  right  into  the  mysterious  Black  Hills. 
The  general  laughed. 

The  march  was  almost  a  picnic.  Anybody  who 
wished  to  hunt  had  hunting  of  antelope  and  deer  in 
plenty.  The  scientists  were  busy,  examining  rocks 
and  animals.  Bos  Custer  was  a  great  favorite.  Of 
course  he  was  a  tenderfoot,  for  this  was  his  first 
experience  on  the  plains.  The  general  and  Colonel 
Tom,  his  brothers,  played  many  jokes  upon  him,  to 
try  his  mettle  and  make  fun;  but  he  took  everything 
so  good  naturedly  and  made  himself  so  useful  that  he 
was  much  liked.  As  for  the  general,  he  was  again  in 
his  element :  buckskin  clad,  galloping  on  Vic  or  Dandy, 
talking  sign-language  with  Bloody  Knife  and  Bull 
Bear  and  Skunk's  Head  and  Goose,  and  picking  up 
much  information  from  the  scientists. 

After  300  miles,  according  to  the  odometer  or 
measuring  wheels  of  the  engineers'  cart,  on  July  20 
through  a  little  ravine  the  course  suddenly  changed 
from  dry  burning  prairie  to  green  grass  knee-deep, 
ripening  gooseberries,  wild  cherries,  cool  breezes  and 
crystal  waters.  Such  was  the  terrible  Black  Hills, 

247 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

on  the  inside.  Now  even  the  scouts  were  eager  to  go 
on.  Never  had  so  entrancing  a  country  been  seen  by 
anybody  in  the  command. 

From  north  to  south  and  south  to  north  through 
the  Black  Hills  marched  the  column.  The  soldiers 
hunted  and  napped,  the  scientists  searched  for 
knowledge,  the  miners  prospected  for  gold.  They 
found  considerable  "  color,"  which  they  excitedly 
showed  at  camp;  but  they  did  not  make  any  great 
strikes.  Professor  WincEell,  the  geologist,  was  of  the 
opinion  that  not  much  gold  lay  hidden  here ;  however, 
he  did  not  convince  the  miners  or  the  soldiers. 

There  was  no  trouble  from  tfie  Sioux:  the  whole 
expedition  was  a  perfect  success,  without  bother;  and 
their  wagons  and  saddles  laden  high  with  horns  and 
skins  and  other  specimens,  at  halfpast  four  o'clock 
on  the  afternoon  of  August  30,  the  sixtieth  day  to  a 
dot,  the  tattered  but  happy  column  swung  their  hats 
to  Fort  Abe  Lincoln  again. 


XX 

RAIN-IN-THE-FACE  VOWS  VENGEANCE 


THE  winter  of  1874-1875  settled  down  upon  Fort 
Lincoln,  just  as  had  settled  the  long,  cold  snowy  winter 
of  the  year  preceding.  Now  again  was  it  buffalo 
shoes  and  mittens  and  fur  caps;  short  drills,  and 
time  hanging  rather  heavy.  The  Sioux  under  Sitting 
Bull  and  Crazy  Horse  remained  out  somewhere  in  the 
depths  of  the  vast  reservation.  They  refused  to  come 
into  the  agencies  as  did  the  other  Indians;  and  any 
supplies  that  they  got  were  carried  out  to  them  by 
their  friends.  The  Sioux  called  General  Custer's  trail 
into  the  Black  Hills  the  "  Thieves'  Trail."  They  had 
made  many  protests  against  it.  But  white  adventurers 
were  much  excited,  and  were  openly  planning  to  go 
there  prospecting  for  gold.  Already  one  party  had 
gone  out,  in  defiance  of  the  Government  and  of  the 
Indians,  and  were  somewhere  in  the  Hills.  Soldiers 
sent  after  them  failed  to  find  them. 

However,  this  was  not  the  main  excitement  at 
Fort  Lincoln.  When  December  was  drawing  to  a 
close  orders  were  suddenly  issued  for  Captain  Yates 
to  take  three  officers  and  one  hundred  men,  and  pro- 

249 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

ceed  out  upon  a  scout.  Lieutenant  Tom  Custer  was 
one  of  the  officers;  and  as  trumpeter  of  Lieutenant 
Tom's  troop  Ned  was  detailed  for  the  march. 

This  seemed  pretty  tough,  at  holiday  time;  for  the 
weather  was  piercing  cold,  with  a  keen  wind  blowing. 
But  it  was  a  change,  anyway,  from  the  rather  dull 
garrison  routine. 

Nobody  in  the  ranks  seemed  to  know  where  the 
column  were  going,  or  why  they  were  going.  Charley 
Reynolds  was  guide. 

Southward  led  the  route,  down  along  the  Missouri, 
with  the  officers  and  troopers  muffled  to  their  noses 
in  warmest  clothing,  regulation  or  not  Fort  Rice, 
twenty  miles,  was  passed;  and  twenty  more  miles  lay 
behind  ere,  at  a  brief  halt,  the  officers  appeared  to  be 
consulting  some  orders  that  Captain  Yates  had  opened. 
He  and  Lieutenant  Tom  and  the  other  two  officers 
murmured  and  nodded.  At  "  For'rd — march !  "  the 
column  of  fours  moved  on. 

Ahead,  thirty  miles,  or  seventy  miles  below  Fort 
Abraham  Lincoln,  was  the  Standing  Rock  Agency 
for  the  Unkpapa  and  Yanktonais  Sioux.  On  the  third 
day  of  the  march  the  agency  buildings  rose  in  sight. 
Just  outside  the  agency  grounds  the  column  made 
temporary  camp,  to  spend  the  night. 

There  were  many  Sioux  about,  for  it  was  ration 
time,  and  from  their  village  ten  miles  down-river  they 
were  gathering  to  get  their  beef  and  other  supplies. 

Now  was  it  reported  through  the  camp  that  the 

250 


RAIN-IN-THE-FACE  VOWS  VENGEANCE 

expedition  had  been  made  for  the  purpose  of  capturing 
some  Sioux  who  had  killed  a  white  man  on  the  Red 
River  of  the  North,  the  summer  before.  That  would 
seem  correct;  for  after  breakfast  forty  of  the  troopers 
were  led  off,  south,  to  the  village,  where,  rumor  said, 
the  murderers  might  be.  This  appeared  rather  a 
foolish  piece  of  work  by  Captain  Yates  and  Lieutenant 
Tom.  Of  course  the  other  Sioux  would  see  the 
soldiers  arrive  and  would  warn  the  murderers  to  hide. 

However,  "  Boots  and  Saddles  "  was  it,  for  all  the 
camp.  After  the  detachment  had  trotted  away,  Cap 
tain  Yates  took  the  remainder  of  the  company  to  the 
agency.  They  were  halted  a  short  distance  from  the 
post  store. 

It  was  full  of  Indians,  trading.  In  and  out  they 
stalked,  wrapped  all  in  buffalo  robes  or  Government 
blankets  of  red,  blue  and  gray.  Scarcely  a  face  was 
to  be  seen.  Lieutenant  Tom  dismounted,  and  beckon 
ing  to  five  of  his  soldiers  leisurely  entered.  He  stayed 
inside,  as  if  chatting  with  the  trader. 

"  At  ease,"  ordered  Captain  Yates,  to  the  sergeant 
of  the  troop  outside.  So  the  remainder  of  the  column 
might  dismount,  and  stretch  legs,  and  swing  arms, 
and  watch  curiously  the  many  shrouded  Indians.  Even 
this  was  poky  work.  Yet  something  was  in  the  air. 
Evidently  Captain  Yates  and  Lieutenant  Tom  had  a 
scheme  up  their  sleeves. 

Three  hours  passed — and  now  on  a  sudden  arose  a 
great  commotion.  From  the  store  issued  quick  scuffle 

251 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

of  feet,  and  sharp  commands.  High  swelled  angry 
voices,  in  guttural  Sioux;  Indians  outside  began  to 
run. 

"  Comp'ny — 'ten' shim!  Mount!"  shouted  Cap 
tain  Yates,  "  Right  into  line — march !  For'r'd — 
march !  Trot — march !  Comp'ny — halt !  " 

In  line  they  had  drawn  up  before  the  agency  door. 
An  Indian  within  was  loudly  speaking,  as  if  calling  to 
arms.  At  least  five  hundred  Indians  came  running, 
with  their  rifles;  and  out  through  the  doorway  was 
being  hustled  between  two  of  the  soldiers  another 
Indian,  arms  bound  behind  him,  blanket  fallen  from 
his  proud,  handsome,  stolid  face.  Only  his  eyes 
flashed  defiance.  Two  soldiers  opened  the  way;  Lieu 
tenant  Tom  and  the  fifth  soldier  followed. 

"  Rain-in-the-Face !  "  aside  said  somebody,  in  the 
ranks;  and  the  name  traveled  right  and  left.  That 
was  Rain-in-the-Face,  a  prominent  Unkpapa  warrior, 
who  had  been  arrested  by  Lieutenant  Tom. 

"  Advanoe — carbines !  "  shouted  Captain  Yates, 
above  the  tumult;  and  butts  of  carbines  were  promptly 
placed  upon  thigh,  muzzles  up.  This  was  a  "  ready," 
for  quick  action. 

The  Indian  orator  was  still  shrieking  and  urging; 
the  other  Indians  were  jostling  and  clamoring,  and 
from  all  directions  the  crowd  was  being  increased.  It 
looked  bad  for  the  little  company  of  cavalry. 

Rain-in-the-Face  made  no  resistance.  He  was 
hoisted  upon  a  horse,  and  ringed  by  a  guard  of  soldiers, 

252 


RAIN-IN-THE-FACE  VOWS  VENGEANCE 

who  gave  not  an  inch  before  the  scowls  and  threats 
around-about. 

Gradually,  as  through  the  post  interpreter  Captain 
Yates  now  talked  to  the  Indians,  the  tumult  died. 
They  knew  that  in  a  stand-up  fight  on  the  spot  many 
of  them  would  be  killed;  and  they  knew  that  Rain- 
in-the-Face  had  been  arrested  for  good  cause.  So 
presently  away  they  began  to  rush,  to  their  village,  to 
pow-wow  and  maybe  get  reinforcements. 

"Fours  right — march!  Column  right — march!" 
ordered  Captain  Yates;  and  with  Rain-in-the-Face 
in  the  middle,  out  from  the  agency  moved  the  com 
pact  cavalry  column. 

When  halt  was  made  at  the  temporary  camp  just 
outside,  speedily  was  it  known  to  all  why  Rain-in- 
the-Face  had  been  arrested.  A  couple  of  weeks  be 
fore,  the  Sioux  gathered  at  the  agency  had  a  great 
dance,  during  which  the  warriors  had  recited  their 
biggest  deeds.  They  spoke  in  Sioux,  but  Charley 
Reynolds  the  scout  was  sitting  near,  watching.  He 
understood  Sioux.  When  Rain-in-the-Face  had 
entered  the  circle,  and  boasted  of  his  career,  suddenly 
Charley  pricked  his  ears,  but  gave  no  sign  that  he 
heard ;  for  Rain-in-the-Face  was  vaunting  how,  a  year 
and  a  half  before,  he  had  killed  two  white  men. 

One  was  a  fat  man  with  no  hair ;  him  he  had  shot 
from  his  horse  and  had  finished  with  the  war-club. 
The  other  was  a  younger  man,  the  fat  man's  com- 

253 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

panion,  who  had  taken  refuge  in  a  clump  of  trees.  He 
had  signed  for  peace,  and  had  offered  his  hat;  but  he 
also  had  been  shot,  with  bullet  and  arrow.  No  scalps 
were  taken,  because  the  fat  man  had  been  bald  and 
the  other  man  had  very  short  hair. 

Then  Charley  Reynolds  knew  that  he  had  found 
one  of  the  murderers  of  Veterinary  Surgeon  Hon- 
zinger  and  Sutler  Baliran,  killed  when  inoffensive 
and  unarmed,  on  the  Yellowstone  expedition  of  the 
summer  of  1873.  Out  slipped  Charley,  as  soon  as  he 
could,  and  hastened  with  the  news  to  General  Custer 
at  Fort  Lincoln. 

General  Custer  had  kept  the  news  quiet,  lest  the 
Sioux  should  be  alarmed  and  send  word  to  Rain-in- 
the-Face.  He  was  accounted  a  mighty  warrior,  for 
he  had  made  a  record  by  hanging  four  hours,  in  a 
Sun  Dance  ceremony,  by  ropes  fastened  to  splints 
thrust  through  his  chest  and  back.  He  had  five  well- 
known  brothers — Bear's  Face,  Red  Thunder,  Iron 
Horn,  Little  Bear,  and  Shave  Head :  warriors  all.  So 
whatever  was  to  be  done  must  be  done  cunningly.  And 
so  it  had  been  done. 

Waiting  there  in  the  agency  store,  until  the  Indians 
should  give  glimpses  of  their  features,  when  Rain-in- 
the-Face  finally  had  dropped  his  blanket  a  little  Lieu 
tenant  Tom,  with  a  leap  from  behind,  had  clasped  him 
about  both  arms. 

At  Fort  Lincoln  Rain-in-the-Face  confessed  to  the 
murders,  He  evidently  expected  to  be  hanged  at  once, 

m 


RAIN-IN-THE-FACE  VOWS  VENGEANCE 

for  he  dressed  himself  in  black.  His  brother  Iron 
Horn,  and  other  leading  Sioux,  tried  to  comfort  him, 
and  in  council  with  the  general  they  pleaded  for  him. 
But  all  actions  and  talk  were  conducted  in  a  solemn 
dignified  manner,  as  befitting  the  great  Sioux  nation. 

While  the  general  waited  specific  orders  from  the 
War  Department,  Rain-in-the-Face  must  be  confined 
in  the  guard-house.  Here  he  stayed  for  almost  four 
months.  He  remained  ever  calm,  ever  proud,  looking 
at  nobody  when  he  was  permitted  to  walk  back  and 
forth,  chained  to  another  prisoner,  for  exercise. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  April  spread  an  alarm, 
from  sentry  to  officers.  Through  a  hole  made  in  the 
wooden  wall  by  white  prisoners  Rain-in-the-Face  had 
stolen  away.  He  did  not  appear  at  the  agency.  He  was 
not  found  in  the  nearby  camps.  However,  soon,  by 
mouth  to  mouth,  Sioux  to  Sioux,  from  Sitting  Bull's 
band  of  hostiles  far  up  the  Yellowstone  River  in 
Montana  he  sent  word.  Charley  Reynolds  himself 
was  authority. 

"  Rain-in-the-Face  says,"  reported  Charley,  "  to 
tell  the  Long  Hair  and  the  Long  Hair's  brother  that 
he  will  cut  their  hearts  out  because  they  put  a  great 
warrior  in  prison." 


XXI 

SITTING  BULL  SAYS:  "COME  ON!1 


THIS  summer  of  1875  no  regular  campaign  or 
expedition  was  made  by  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  The 
few  months  were  spent  in  drills  at  Fort  Lincoln  and 
Fort  Rice,  and  in  short  scouts  to  reconnoitre  and  for 
practice.  However,  there  was  no  telling  when  the 
whole  regiment  might  be  ordered  out  in  a  hurry.  The 
Sioux  muttered  constantly;  and  according  to  Charley 
Reynolds  and  other  persons  who  knew,  around  the 
posts,  they  were  "  going  bad." 

Sitting  Bull  and  Crazy  Horse  were  still  outside 
the  reservation,  in  their  own  country  of  the  Powder 
River  and  the  Big  Horn  region;  but  even  Red  Cloud 
and  Spotted  Tail,  who  had  first  signed  the  treaty  of 
1868,  agreeing  to  the  reservation  of  Dakota,  com 
plained  stoutly  of  unfair  treatment. 

Red  Cloud  had  claimed  that  the  Sioux  were  being 
robbed  in  their  supplies;  some  of  the  supplies  sent 
out  by  the  Government  never  reached  them,  and  other 
supplies  were  unfit  to  use.  'An  investigation  proved 
that  Red  Cloud  had  spoken  truth. 

256 


SITTING  BULL  SAYS:  "COME  ON!" 

The  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  had  stopped  at 
Bismarck,  but  the  surveys  on  across  Dakota  had  been 
made,  and  this  also  annoyed  the  Sioux.  They  had 
understood  that  no  white  man's  road  should  cross  the 
reservation  without  their  permission.  And,  of  course, 
there  was  the  Black  Hills  trouble. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think,  these  days,  Charley  ?  " 
invited  Odell,  as  the  summer  wore  on,  and  only  rumors 
filled  the  air.  "  It's  getting  late  for  war,  until  next 
year;  ain't  it?  But  I  hear  there's  a  thousand  miners 
in  the  Black  Hills,  and  they've  started  a  town  they 
call  Custer  City." 

"  Lonesome  "  Charley  Reynolds  slowly  puffed  at 
his  pipe,  and  gazed  before  with  his  calm,  sombre  dark- 
blue  eyes. 

"  There'd  have  been  war,  if  there'd  been  buffalo," 
he  answered.  "  But  old  Red  Cloud  was  smart  enough 
to  send  out  runners,  to  count  the  buffalo,  and  the 
runners  reported  mighty  few.  'Cording  to  my  notion, 
taking  the  plains  altogether,  north  and  south,  six  or 
eight  millions  buffalo  have  been  butchered  by  white 
market  hunters.  The  buffalo  is  what  the  Sioux  and 
the  Cheyenne  live  on.  Red  Cloud  sees  that  with  the 
buffalo  gone  the  Sioux  are  beholden  to  the  whites  for 
meat ;  they  can't  carry  on  a  war,  long ;  and  that's  why 
instead  of  a  fight  Red  Cloud  and  Spotted  Tail  are 
favoring  selling  the  Black  Hills  to  the  Government. 
The  whites  have  the  Hills  anyway.  Those  Custer 
City  lots  they're  selling  are  Injun  land.  Tain't  just 

17  857 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

and  right — but  it's  white  man's  way.  As  long  as  we 
don't  want  the  land  the  Injuns  can  have  it;  but  when 
we  want  it,  then  we  find  some  way  of  getting  it." 

Reports  came  in  of  a  great  council  held  September 
17,  at  Crow  Butte,  near  the  Red  Cloud  agency  on  the 
north  line  of  northwestern  Nebraska.  Here  the 
United  States  met  the  Sioux  nation  and  the  Northern 
Cheyennes  and  Arapahos,  to  barter  for  the  Black  Hills. 
Part  of  the  Indians  wanted  to  sell,  part  did  not.  They 
spoke  of  Pah-sap-pa  as  their  "  House  of  Gold." 

The  United  States  offered  them  $400,000  a  year 
as  long  as  the  white  men  should  want  the  Hills;  and 
offered  to  buy  for  $6,000,000.  The  Sioux  laughed. 
They  asked,  some  $30,000,000,  some  $60,000,000;  or 
"  support  for  every  Indian,  so  long  as  the  Sioux 
should  live." 

Said  Little  Wolf,  Cheyenne  chief : 

"  There  has  been  a  great  deal  stolen  from  those 
Hills  already.  If  the  Great  Father  gets  this  rich 
country  from  us  he  ought  to  pay  us  well  for  it.  That 
country  is  worth  more  than  all  the  wild  beasts  and  all 
the  tame  beasts  that  the  white  people  have." 

Said  Crow  Feather,  Sioux: 

"  Even  if  our  Great  Father  should  give  a  hundred 
different  kinds  of  live-stock  to  each  Indian  house 
every  year,  that  would  not  pay  for  the  Black  Hills. 
I  was  not  born  and  raised  here  for  fun.  I  hope  the 
Great  Father  will  look  and  see  how  many  millions  of 
dollars  have  been  stolen  from  those  Black  Hills;  and 

258 


SITTING  BULL  SAYS:  "COME  ON!" 

when  he  finds  it  out,  I  want  him  to  pay  us  that.  And 
we  will  not  allow  white  people  to  be  coming  in  by 
many  trails.  The  thieves'  road  made  by  the  Long 
Yellow  Hair  is  enough.  That  we  can  watch." 

So  the  United  States  did  not  buy  or  lease  the 
Black  Hills — the  Pah-sap-pa  of  the  Sioux  and  the 
Cheyennes.  Ned  heard  many  arguments,  for  and 
against,  at  the  post;  but  he  could  not  see  that  the 
Indians  were  much  in  the  wrong. 

However,  the  Government  considered  that  it,  also, 
had  a  grievance.  Out  there  in  the  Powder  River  and 
Big  Horn  country,  off  the  reservation,  were  Sitting 
Bull  and  Crazy  Horse.  The  treaty  said  that  this  fine 
region  of  northeastern  Wyoming  and  southeastern 
Montana  from  the  Dakota  and  Nebraska  lines  to  the 
Big  Horn  Mountains  was  all  Indian  property,  to  be 
Sioux  hunting-grounds  as  long  as  there  was  any 
thing  to  hunt.  Here  were  ranging  the  free  bands  of 
Sitting  Bull  and  Crazy  Horse;  but  the  whites  of 
Wyoming  and  of  Montana  looked  upon  these  rovers 
as  dangerous,  and  the  Crows,  who  were  trying  to  live 
peaceably  on  their  reservation  to  the  west  of  the 
hunting-grounds,  declared  that  the  hunter  Sioux  stole 
their  horses. 

"  When  these  Sioux  change  from  hunting  buffalo 
to  hunting  scalps  or  horses,  if  they  can't  find  them  one 
place  they  will  another,"  complained  the  whites — 
some  of  whom  rather  coveted  the  Powder  River 
country  for  themselves. 

259 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  We  might  just  as  well  go  out  and  fight  like  we 
used  to,"  complained  the  Crows,  "  instead  of  being 
good  Indians,  for  we  don't  gain  anything  by  it  if 
other  Indians  are  allowed  to  steal  from  us.'* 

It  was  becoming  a  popular  custom  among  the 
Sioux  for  their  young  men  to  slip  away  from  the 
reservation  limits,  join  the  free  bands,  and  have  a 
good  time  until  they  decided  to  come  into  the  agencies 
for  supplies. 

All  in  all,  matters  between  the  Sioux  nation  and 
the  nation  of  the  United  States  were  not  satisfactory. 
Before  the  middle  of  December  it  was  known  at  Fort 
Lincoln  that  the  Government  had  ordered  Sitting 
Bull  and  the  other  bands  to  come  in  upon  the  reserva 
tion  before  the  end  of  January,  or  to  suffer  the 
consequences. 

"  Huh !  "  grunted  Odell,  as  the  news  reached  Fort 
Lincoln,  on  its  way  to  the  various  agencies.  "  That 
means  war." 

"  Yes,  and  likely  a  winter  campaign,  too,"  chipped 
in  Sergeant  Butler  of  Ned's  company.  "  Another 
Washita  for  the  Seventh ! " 

"  Won't  Sitting  Bull  or  Crazy  Horse  come  in,  you 
think  ?  "  queried  Ned,  anxiously. 

"  Charley  says  they  won't,"  quoth  Sergeant  Butler, 
nodding  toward  the  scout. 

Charley  was  sitting  in  the  barracks  room,  taking 
things  easy,  by  the  stove. 

"  No,  they  won't,"  he  asserted,  calmly.     "  Why 

260 


SITTING  BULL  SAYS:  "COME  ON!" 

should  they?  They're  on  their  own  grounds,  guar 
anteed  to  them  by  the  Government,  where  they  can 
live  and  hunt.  What's  more,  half  the  Sioux  nation 
will  be  joining  'em.  I've  got  a  heap  o'  respect  for 
Sitting  Bull.  He's  the  biggest  power  in  the  Sioux 
nation  to-day,  though  he  isn't  a  chief." 

"  Do  you  know  him,  Charley?  "  asked  Ned. 

"  Yes,  I  know  him.  He's  a  short,  heavy-set  Injun, 
with  a  broad  homely  mug,  and  brown  hair  and  light 
complexion  pock-marked  up.  Only  Injun  I  ever  saw 
having  brown  hair.  His  Sioux  name  is  Ta-tan-kah- 
yo-tan-kah.  He's  an  Unkpapa,  and  his  name  as  a 
boy  was  Jumping  Badger,  until  he  counted  a  coup  on 
a  Crow  carcass  and  took  his  father's  name.  He's  not 
a  chief,  or  son  of  a  chief  except  a  subchief,  but  he's 
the  smartest  Sioux  living.  The  war  chiefs  don't 
think  much  of  him.  His  specialty  is  making  medicine 
and  guessing  at  what'll  happen.  He's  a  good  guesser, 
too.  And  he  sure  can  read  human  character." 

"Won't  he  fight?" 

"  Oh,  he's  done  some  fighting,  Injun  fashion.  Up 
at  Buford  (Fort  Buford)  they've  got  an  old  roster 
of  the  Thirty-first  Infantry,  that  belonged  to  Sitting 
Bull  and  that  another  Injun  stole  from  him.  He'd 
pictured  it  full  of  himself  and  his  killings  and  steal 
ings.  So  he's  been  a  warrior;  but  among  the  other 
Injuns  he  ranks  as  big  medicine  and  not  as  a  man 
like  Crazy  Horse  or  Gall  or  Red  Cloud;  except  that 
he  hates  the  whites  and  always  will,  I  reckon." 

261 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Do  you  know  Crazy  Horse,  too,  Charley?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  Crazy  Horse.  He's  an  Oglala 
Sioux,  but  his  band  are  mostly  northern  Cheyennes. 
Crazy  Horse  is  a  fighter,  all  right.  You  can  bet  on 
that.  Chief  Gall  is  their  general,  though.  Next  to 
him  is  Crow  King.  If  we  have  a  fight,  it  will  be  Gall 
and  Crow  King  and  Crazy  Horse  doing  the  planning, 
and  Sitting  Bull  doing  the  prophesying,  urging  'em  on." 

"  We  can  beat  them,  anyhow."  This  was  the 
confident  voice  of  Boston  Custer.  "  Bos  "  had  been 
appointed  forage-master,  so  now  he  counted  himself 
a  member  of  the  regiment,  and  was  proud  of  the  fact. 
He  liked  to  mix  with  the  soldiers,  sometimes,  and  be 
one  of  them,  even  if  his  brother  was  the  commanding 
officer. 

"  Maybe  so,  maybe  not,"  mused  Charley  Reynolds, 
soberly.  "  That  Bad  Lands  country  is  a  terror  to 
cross.  Those  Injuns  are  better  armed  than  the  soldiers, 
too;  with  Springfields  and  Winchesters  and  Reming 
tons  that  they're  getting  direct  from  the  agencies — 
along  with  plenty  supplies.  When  you  run  up  against 
those  Sioux,  son,  you'll  know  you've  been  in  a 
scrimmage." 

The  weeks  passed.  By  the  first  of  February  the 
Sitting  Bull  and  Crazy  Horse  bands  had  not  come  in 
upon  the  reservation,  and  evidently  they  did  not  intend 
to  come  in.  One  day  appeared  at  Fort  Lincoln  old 
Isaiah,  a  negro  interpreter  who  had  married  a  Sioux 
wife  and  lived  at  the  Standing  Rock  agency. 

262 


SITTING  BULL  SAYS:  "COME  ON!" 

"  Well,  Isaiah,  where  are  the  rest  of  your  Injuns?  " 
hailed  a  soldier. 

"  Who  you  mean?  "  demanded  Isaiah. 

"  Sitting  Bull." 

"  Didn't  you  get  his  word?  "  retorted  Isaiah.  "  He 
Say  to  the  soldiers :  '  Come  on.  Needn't  bring  any 
guides.  You  can  find  me  easy.  I  won't  run  away.' 
That  is  so,  because  my  squaw  tell  me,  an'  she  know." 


XXII 
OUT  AGAINST  THE  SIOUX 


THE  general  and  Mrs.  Custer  had  been  away  all 
winter  up  to  this  time,  sight-seeing  in  New  York.  Now 
they  returned  by  a  hard  trip  through  a  blizzard — and 
they  returned  just  in  time.  Orders  had  been  sent  out 
by  General  Sheridan,  commander  of  the  Division  of 
the  West,  to  General  Terry,  commanding  the  Depart 
ment  of  Dakota,  that  the  Department  must  bring  the 
disobedient  Sioux  to  task.  Of  course,  the  Seventh . 
Cavalry  would  take  the  van,  and  the  Long  Hair  would 
lead  his  warriors. 

Reports  said  that  the  march  was  to  begin  at  once ; 
that  General  Sheridan  was  anxious  for  another  cam 
paign.  And  it  looked  that  way,  with  General  Custer 
bustling  about  at  Fort  Lincoln,  and  with  supplies  and 
troops  (according  to  talks  among  the  officers)  being 
collected  at  St.  Paul  in  readiness  for  the  first  trains 
through  to  Bismarck. 

"  Aw,  just  put  the  Seventh  in  the  field.  That's 
enough.  We  can  lick  the  Sioux  and  make  'em  eat  at 
the  Government's  table,"  was  the  slogan  in  Fort 
Lincoln. 

264 


OUT  AGAINST  THE  SIOUX 

The  plans  seemed  to  be  that  the  Department  of 
Dakota  was  to  attack  from  the  east  and  the  west,  and 
the  Department  of  the  Platte  from  the  south.  Thus 
it  would  be  pretty  hard  for  the  Indians  to  escape, 
except  by  going  north  into  Canada. 

The  spring  was  late.  The  winter  kept  coming 
back  again,  to  snow  a  little  more ;  and  after  the  snows 
there  were  many  freezes  and  cold  rains.  The  general 
would  have  started  out  at  any  time;  but  General 
Terry,  at  St.  Paul,  was  not  ready.  He  would  ac 
company  'the  column  from  Fort  Lincoln,  although 
General  Custer  was  to  command  in  the  field. 

Meanwhile  the  general  was  letting  his  hair  grow 
long  again,  after  having  had  it  cut  short  for  his  stay 
in  the  East,  and  was  preparing  his  command.  There 
were  many  drills.  Everybody  was  eager  to  be  gone. 
Some  of  the  officers,  like  Captain  Benteen  and  Lieu 
tenant  Calhoun  and  Captain  (he  had  been  promoted) 
Tom  Custer  and  Lieutenant  Smith  and  "  Queen's 
Own"  Cook  and  "Bandbox"  Yates  had  fought 
Indians  before;  others  like  the  new  major,  Major 
Marcus  Reno,  and  Lieutenant  Reily  and  Lieutenant 
Sturgis,  were  rather  green  at  the  business;  and  so  it 
was  with  the  enlisted  men. 

As  for  Ned,  he  had  been  transferred  to  Captain 
Benteen's  company,  which  was  Troop  H.  Captain 
Tom  now  commanded  Troop  C. 

Word  went  out  that  the  regiment  would  take  the 
field  in  April,  sure,  if  the  snow  ever  quit.  Then, 

265 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

amidst  the  preparations,  suddenly  General  Custer  was 
summoned  -to  Washington.  All  knew  that  he  hated 
to  go;  yet  go  he  evidently  must.  He  had  been  sum 
moned  to  testify  before  a  committee  appointed  by  Con 
gress  to  look  into  some  alleged  frauds  at  the  Indian 
trading-posts.  Of  course,  it  was  expected  that  he 
would  come  back  soon ;  for  who  else  was  there  to  out 
fight  the  warriors  of  the  great  Sioux  nation? 

March  passed.  Already  the  army  further  west,  in 
Wyoming  where  the  snows  were  not  so  deep,  had 
fought  one  battle  with  the  Sioux.  On  March  17,  or 
Saint  Patrick's  Day,  the  Second  and  the  Third  Cavalry 
out  of  Fort  Fetterman,  under  General  J.  J.  Reynolds, 
sent  by  General  Crook  the  "  Gray  Fox,"  had  attacked 
Crazy  Horse's  village  at  the  mouth  of  the  Little 
Powder  River  and  had  destroyed  it. 

'But  the  Indians  had  escaped,  and  had  recovered 
their  pony  herd,  too;  so  that  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Seventh,  the  job  could  not  compare  with  the  fine  job 
done  down  on  the  Washita.  However,  it  was  tough 
luck  to  be  on  waiting  orders  here  at  Lincoln,  while 
the  Second  and  the  Third  were  busy  at  work. 

No  matter,  though.  Thirty-below-zero  weather 
turned  the  Fetterman  troops  home  again.  Crazy 
Horse,  now  crazier  than  ever,  would  join  Sitting 
Bull;  and  there  would  be  fighting  enough  for  every 
body. 

April  arrived,  and  grew,  and  still  no  General  Custer 
appeared.  It  was  rumored  that  he  had  been  held  in 

266 


OUT  AGAINST  THE  SIOUX 

Washington,  because  of  his  testimony  that  did  not 
please  President  Grant;  next  it  was  rumored  that  he 
had  been  removed  from  command  of  the  "  Custer  " 
column;  and  next  it  was  rumored  that  he  would  not 
accompany  the  regiment  at  all !  This  was  startling 
news  to  the  Seventh.  What  would  be  a  campaign  with 
out  "Old  Curly!" 

Now  in  these  the  days  of  chill  April  every  soldier 
was  on  tiptoes  with  impatience.  Custer  or  no  Custer, 
the  time  was  ripe  for  the  march.  Soon  the  grass  would 
be  greening,  the  Sioux  would  be  able  to  travel,  and 
the  advantage  would  be  all  with  them.  Meanwhile, 
every  report  from  the  agencies  was  more  alarming. 
The  "  f  riendlies "  or  "  reservation  Indians  "  were 
slipping,  slipping,  away,  away,  taking  supplies  and 
guns. 

"  Down  at  Standing  Rock  I  hear  there's  only  five 
thousand  Injuns  where  there  used  to  be  seven  thou 
sand,"  asserted  Odell.  "The  rest  have  lit  out,  to 
'  visit '  and  to  '  hunt ' ;  but  you  can  depind  on  't,  'tis 
to  the  Big  Horn  country  they're  goin'." 

The  four  troops  of  the  Seventh  from  Fort  Rice  and 
the  six  from  Fort  Lincoln  were  moved  out  of  barracks 
into  camp,  as  a  more  convenient  place  for  rendezvous. 
The  infantry  allies  arrived,  with  a  battery  of  gatlings ; 
so  did  supplies,  on  the  first  trains.  Bismarck  City  was 
alive  with  the  excitement  of  the  preparations. 

Bloody  Knife  the  Arikara  chief  scout  could  not 
understand  what  had  happened  to  the  Long  Hair.  Ned 

267 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

watched  him  talking  rapid  sign  language  with  Charley 
Reynolds;  and  afterward  stalking  away  gloomy. 

"  Bloody  Knife  asks  why  the  Long  Hair  doesn't 
come  and  lead  his  warriors  out.  Too  much  fuss  and 
wait,  he  says.  The  Sioux  laugh  and  brag;  and  send 
in  word  from  the  hills :  *  Are  the  white  soldiers  tired 
before  they  start?'  'What  is  the  matter  with  the 
Long  Hair?'  'Is  the  Long  Hair  sick?'  And  so 
forth.  I  tell  Bloody  Knife  we  have  another  big  chief, 
named  Terry,  to  lead  us ;  but  he  says :  '  No  want 
Terry.  Want  Long  Hair.  Long  Hair  never  tired, 
never  afraid,  heap  chief.' ' 

"  Terry's  the  man  who  captured  Fort  Fisher  in 
Sixty-five,  isn't  he?"  queried  an  infantry  soldier, 
standing  near.  "  He  must  be  a  good  one,  then." 

"  Yes ;  that's  how  he  got  his  general's  star  in  the 
Regular  Army,  and  thanks  o'  Congress  -besides," 
answered  Odell.  "  And  wasn't  our  own  Lieutenant 
Smith  there,  too,  on  Terry's  staff?  Sure,  he  was 
carryin'  the  colors,  to  cheer  on  a  regiment,  when  a  ball 
so  smashed  his  shoulder  that  he  never  can  lift  his  arm 
above  a  level.  Terry's  all  right.  He  was  a  good 
lawyer  before  he  was  a  good  soldier.  Everybody  likes 
him.  But  he's  never  fought  Injuns.  We  all  want 
Custer  and  you  can  be  sure  Sheridan  does,  too.  It's 
the  president,  who  be  head  o'  the  Army,  that's  ag'in 
him.  He's  talked  too  freely,  I  reckon,  an'  some  o' 
Grant's  friends  have  been  hurt  by  it." 

However,  the  first  week  in  May,  who  should  arrive 

2G8 


OUT  AGAINST  THE  SIOUX 

but  General  Custer!  Afterwards  it  was  known  that 
he  had  just  escaped  being  left  behind  entirely.  Finally 
he  had  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go  upon  the  expedition 
whether  he  commanded  or  not.  "  I  appeal  to  you  as 
a  soldier  to  spare  me  the  humiliation  of  seeing  my 
regiment  march  to  meet  the  enemy  and  I  not  to  share 
its  dangers,"  had  been  his  telegram  to  President  Grant. 

General  Terry  had  joined  in  the  appeal,  and  now 
President  Grant  had  consented.  General  Custer  was 
to  command  only  his  regiment ;  General  Terry  was  to 
command  the  whole  column ;  but,  anyway,  "  Old 
Curly  "  would  be  on  hand. 

He  looked  thin  and  haggard,  as  if  he  had  worried 
much.  His  hair  was  short,  and  it  could  not  grow  out 
again  before  the  march.  Time  pressed.  Here  it  was 
May,  spring  had  opened,  the  Indians  were  afield,  every 
day  added  to  their  strength. 

The  officers'  families  and  the  families  of  many  of 
the  enlisted  men  moved  from  the  post  into  the  camp. 
Another  Custer  also  turned  up.  This  was  young  Arm 
strong  Reed,  or  "  Autie,"  the  general's  nephew.  His 
mother  was  the  general's  eldest  sister.  "  Autie  "  was 
younger  than  "  Bos  "  and  Ned.  With  a  school  friend 
he  had  come  out  from  the  East,  to  spend  his  vacation 
being  either  scout  or  soldier,  he  wasn't  certain  which. 
He  and  "  Bos  "  were  wild  to  go  upon  the  expedition ; 
many  of  the  soldiers  also  were  eager,  and  did  a  little 
bragging;  but  the  women  of  the  officers'  circle  and  of 
Suds  Row,  they  were  very  sober.  They  knew  that  the 

209 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Sioux  were  gathering,  what  the  delay  had  done  to 
change  the  advantage,  and  how  serious  the  campaign 
might  be.  Mrs.  Custer's  eyes  seemed  to  be  brimming; 
and  so  did  Mrs.  Calhoun's,  and  Mrs.  Yates',  and  all. 

Not  until  the  middle  of  May  were  orders  issued  to 
break  camp.  First  General  Terry  and  staff  arrived 
from  department  headquarters  at  St.  Paul.  General 
Alfred  Howe  Terry,  commander  of  the  Department  of 
Dakota,  was  a  tall,  soldierly  man,  with  long  beard  and 
calm,  courteous  way.  Ned  immediately  liked  his  looks. 

May  17  was  the  day  for  the  start.  The  "  General  " 
or  call  to  strike  tents  was  sounded  at  five  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  The  wagon  train  was  sent  ahead, 
escorted  by  the  infantry;  but  General  Terry  had 
directed  General  Custer  to  march  the  Seventh  around 
the  parade  ground  at  Fort  Lincoln,  as  a  compliment  to 
the  "  wives  and  sweethearts  "  there. 

This  was  kind  in  General  Terry.  He  had  seen  how 
the  women  were  feeling,  and  he  hoped  to  cheer  them  up. 

Proudly  straight  sat  officers  and  men,  as  platoon 
by  platoon,  in  flashing  column  of  yellow  and  blue, 
headed  by  the  band  the  celebrated  Seventh  Regiment 
—"Custer's  Regiment" — of  United  States  Cavalry, 
rode  around  and  around  the  Fort  Abra'ham  Lincoln 
parade-ground.  The  band  played  "  Garryowen  " : 

Our  hearts  so  stout  have  got  us  fame, 
For  soon  'tis  known  from  whence  we  came; 
Where'er  we  go  they  dread   the  name 
Of  Garryowen  in  glory! 

270 


Voices  cheered;  children  pranced.  But  from  Officers' 
Row  and  from  Suds  Row  peered  tear-stained  faces 
vainly  trying  to  smile,  and  from  the  Arikara  village 
outside  welled  the  mournful  chants  of  doleful  squaws. 

Nevertheless  Ned,  riding  in  line  with  Captain  Ben- 
teen's  platoons,  trumpet  on  thigh,  revolver  at  hip, 
could  not  but  feel  sure  that  such  a  grand  regiment 
was  able  to  thrash  all  the  Indians  of  the  plains. 

The  tune  by  the  band  changed  to  "  The  Girl  I  Left 
Behind  Me  " : 

The  hope  of  final  victory 

Within  my   bosom  burning, 
Is  mingled  with  sweet  thoughts  of  thee 

And  of  my  fond  returning. 
But  should  I  ne'er  return  again, 

Still  worth  thy  love  thou'lt  find  me; 
Dishonor's  breath  shall  never  stain 

The  name  I'll  leave  behind  me. 

This  was  sign  that  the  parade  was  over.  Out  from  the 
garrison  quarters  marched  the  column  of  platoons; 
and  here  was  delivered  the  command  to  halt,  and  to 
dismount. 

"  Officers  and  men  are  permitted  to  leave  the  ranks 
for  the  purpose  of  taking  farewells  of  their  families. 
They  will  rejoin  their  commands  at  the  sound  of 
'  Assembly.' " 

These  were  the  instructions.  However,  the  general 
stayed  with  the  column,  and  so  did  Captain  Calhoun. 
Their  wives  were  to  ride  with  them,  a  way,  as  usual. 

Some  of  the  officers  and  men  were  suspiciously  red- 

271 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

eyed  when  at  "  Assembly  "  they  again  fell  into  place. 
The  wagon  train  could  be  seen,  rolling  on,  following 
the  plodding  infantry.  The  cavalry  moved  fast,  to 
pass  and  take  the  advance.  Mrs.  Custer  and  Mrs. 
Calhoun  rode  with  the  general  at  the  head  of  the 
column.  He  was  mounted  on  Vic.  The  stag  hounds 
trotted  on  either  flank.  They  were  always  included. 

Truly,  seeing  this  long  column  stretching  two  miles, 
ranks  regular,  spurs  jingling,  infantry  guns  aslant, 
guidon  and  flag  gaily  afloat,  there  appeared  to  be  no 
reason  why  the  white  "  wives  and  sweethearts  "  and 
those  Ree  squaws  should  feel  so  bad.  Here  were  the 
twelve  troops  of  the  fighting  Seventh  Cavalry,  under 
Custer  himself;  here  were  infantry — two  companies 
of  the  Sixth  Regulars  and  one  of  the  Seventeenth ; 
here  were  four  gatling  guns  and  a  platoon  of  the 
Twentieth  Infantry  to  serve  them;  and  forty  Arikari 
or  Ree  scouts  under  Chief  Bloody  Knife;  and  forage 
Master  "  Bos  "  Custer  and  young  "  Autie  "  Reed,  who 
was  appointed  a  herder  for  the  beef  cattle,  and 
"  Lonesome  "  Charley  Reynolds  the  white  scout,  and 
Isaiah  the  squaw-man  black  scout  from  Fort  Rice; 
and  a  great  supply  train  of  114  six-mule  wagons,  107 
other  wagons,  and  eighty-five  pack-mules ;  altogether, 
1,000  men.  They  had  rations  and  forage  for  thirty 
days,  and  each  soldier  carried  one  hundred  rifle  or 
carbine  cartridges,  and  fifty  revolver  cartridges.  The 
Seventh  had  left  their  sabres  behind  and  they  were 
glad  of  it,  because  the  sabres  were  a  bother.  They 

272 


OUT  AGAINST  THE  SIOUX 

could  do  better  work  with  their  Colt's  revolvers  and 
their  Remington  carbines.  Not  even  the  officers  wore 
swords. 

This  was  the  "  Lincoln  column."  Up  from 
Wyoming  were  marching  the  Crook  column — ten 
companies  of  the  Third  Cavalry,  and  five  of  the 
Second,  and  six  companies  from  the  Fourth  and  the 
Ninth  United  States  Infantry:  1300  men  under  General 
George  Crook,  the  "  Gray  Fox  "  who  had  fought  the 
Apaches  in  Arizona.  In  from  western  Montana  were 
marching  the  "Montana  column  "• —four  companies 
of  the  Second  Cavalry,  and  two  of  the  Seventh  In 
fantry  :  400  men  under  General  John  Gibbon,  who  had 
won  rank  and  honor  in  the  Civil  War.  Twenty-seven 
hundred  soldiers  under  three  famous  generals  ought  to 
whip  Sitting  Bull  and  Crazy  Horse. 

The  Lincoln  column  made  first  camp  a  short  dis 
tance  out  from  the  fort.  Early  the  next  morning  Mrs. 
Custer  and  Mrs.  Calhoun  said  good-by  to  their  hus 
bands  and  friends  and  must  go  back  to  Lincoln. 

As  long  as  they  were  in  sight  they  waved  their 
handkerchiefs;  the  general  and  Lieutenant  Calhoun 
from  their  positions  waved  back.  When  this  ceased, 
then  did  it  seem  to  Ned  as  though  at  last  the  campaign 
into  the  enemy's  country  had  actually  begun. 


18 


XXIII 
LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 


"  How  many  Injuns  will  there  be,  do  you  think?  " 
invited  "  Autie  "  Reed,  excitedly,  of  Ned. 

This  was  the  evening  of  June  21.  The  expedition 
had  been  out  from  Fort  Lincoln  over  a  month.  Now 
they  were  in  camp  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rosebud  River, 
on  the  south  side  of  the  Yellowstone  River  in  south 
eastern  Montana — just  beyond  the  Tongue  River 
where  in  the  summer  of  1873  General  Custer  had  first 
met  the  Sioux  in  battle  and  had  almost  been  cut  off, 
and  Doctor  Honzinger  and  Sutler  Baliran  had  been 
killed  by  Rain-in-the-Face. 

No  Indians  had  been  met.  Many  of  the  officers 
and  men  were  of  the  opinion  that  none  would  be 
found,  and  that  all  would  escape.  But  when  here  the 
searchers  were,  at  last,  right  in  the  enemy's  home,  it 
looked  as  though  a  fight  was  likely  to  occur  soon. 
General  Gibbon's  "  Montana  column  "  was  encamped 
across  the  Yellowstone.  They  had  marched  from  the 
west  down  the  north  bank,  and  had  reported  that  no 
Sioux  had  traveled  north,  but  that  they  had  seen  hostile 
Indians  watching  them  from  the  south  bank.  There- 

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LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

fore  in  the  opinion  of  General  Gibbon  the  Sioux  were 
still  south  of  the  Yellowstone,  in  the  wild  hunting- 
grounds  of  the  Big  Horn  and  the  Powder  Rivers. 

General  Crook  the  Gray  Fox  was  down  there,  with 
his  soldiers.  He  had  not  been  heard  from,  but  it  was 
expected  that  as  he  approached  he  would  be  driving  the 
Sioux  before  him.  Nobody  knew  that  on  June  17 
General  Crook  had  been  met  on  the  upper  Rosebud 
by  Sitting  Bull's  warriors  and  had  been  forced  back. 
The  red  general  had  out-matched  the  white  general. 
The  Sioux  were  better  warriors  than  the  Apaches. 

Major  Reno  had  been  ordered  by  General  Terry 
to  take  his  portion  of  the  Seventh  and  scout  south 
ward,  to  examine  the  country  for  Indian  signs  and 
perhaps  to  sight  General  Crook.  He  had  not  sighted 
General  Crook,  who  was  a  hundred  miles  distant,  shut 
off  by  a  wide  stretch  of  rough,  perilous  country.  But 
swinging  in  a  circle  back  he  had  come,  with  news  that 
on  the  Rosebud  River  he  had  struck  a  large  trail, 
trending  up-river,  made  by  many  Sioux.  This  was 
news  indeed,  and  welcome  news. 

Steamboats  ran  on  the  Yellowstone.  The  Govern 
ment  supply  boat  Far  West,  Captain  Grant  Marsh, 
had  arrived  from  the  Missouri.  General  Terry  and 
General  Gibbon  and  General  Custer  had  consulted, 
aboard  her  where  she  was  tied  to  the  shore  unloading 
her  supplies;  and  the  results  were  known. 

The  "  Montana  column  "  were  to  be  crossed  to  the 
south  bank;  and  they,  and  the  infantry,  under  General 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Terry  and  General  Gibbon,  were  to  proceed  south  up 
the  Big  Horn  River,  which  was  the  next  river  beyond 
the  Rosebud.  The  Far  West  was  to  accompany  as 
far  as  it  could.  But  the  whole  Seventh  Cavalry  were 
to  march  up  the  Rosebud,  to  the  Indian  trail,  and  see 
where  the  trail  went  to.  Then,  if  the  Indians  tried 
to  escape  by  the  east  or  the  southeast,  the  Seventh 
would  turn  them;  and  if  they  tried  to  escape  north 
down  the  Big  Horn,  the  other  column  would  turn  them. 

Every  soldier  was  now  much  interested,  but  none 
more  interested  than  "  Autie."  So  he  had  sought  out 
Ned  the  veteran,  to  confer  with  him.  "  Autie,"  being 
the  general's  nephew,  always  was  chock-full  of  inside 
information  that  he  picked  up  among  the  officers.  So 
together  they  made  a  good  team. 

"  How  many  Injuns  will  there  be,  do  you  think?  " 
asked  "  Autie,"  by  the  camp-fire. 

"  Major  Reno  says  he  counted  sign  of  three  hun 
dred  and  eighty  lodges,  didn't  he  ?  "  answered  Ned. 
"  Charley  Reynolds  says  that  means  about  fourteen 
hundred  in  all;  four  or  five  hundred  warriors,  if  we 
include  the  boys.  Indian  boys  over  fourteen  can  fight 
as  hard  as  the  men.  They  did  down  on  the  Washita." 

"  Bloody  Knife  and  the  Rees  are  scared  already," 
declared  "  Autie."  "  They're  making  medicine.  But 
Half- Yellow-Face  and  Curly  and  the  other  Crows 
aren't  scared.  (Some  Crow  Indians  had  joined  the 
Arikari  scouts,  to  fight  against  the  enemy  Sioux.) 

276 


LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

I  like  them  the  best,  anyway.  They're  as  jolly  as  any 
of  us." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Ned,  wisely;  "they're  about  the 
best  Indians  I've  ever  seen." 

"  Sioux  can  whip  'em,"  grunted  a  voice.  It  was 
that  of  Isaiah,  the  black  squaw-man  scout.  "  Sioux 
best  fighters  on  plains." 

"  They  can't  whip  us,  though,"  retorted  "  Autie." 
"  Is  that  Sitting  Bull's  trail  we're  going  to  follow, 
Ike?" 

"  No,  guess  not.  Band  goin'  to  Settin'  Bull's  vil 
lage,  mebbe.  But  don't  you  worry,  boy.  We  find 
Settin'  Bull,  plenty  quick ;  or  he  find  us.  Crazy  Hoss, 
too.  Gall,  Lame  Deer,  Black  Moon,  Two  Moon,  He 
Dog,  Hump,  Big  Road,  Crow  King — they  all  be  there, 
with  their  Minniconjous,  an'  Oglalas,  an'  Cheyennes, 
an'  Sans  Arc,  an'  Brules,  an'  Hunkpapas,  an'  Black- 
feet,  jest  sp'ilin'  for  a  fight  if  we  only  fetch  it  to  'em  in 
the  right  place." 

"  And  Rain-in-the-Face,"  suggested  "  Xutie." 

"  Yep;  Rain-in-the-Face.    He  be  there." 

"We  don't  care,"  scoffed  "Autie,"  true  to  the 
Seventh.  "  General  Terry  offered  Uncle  Autie  the 
gatling  guns  and  some  of  the  Second  Cavalry;  but 
Uncle  Autie  says  the  Seventh  is  enough.  We  don't 
need  anybody  to  help  us ;  do  we,  Ned !  " 

"  No,"  asserted  Ned.  "  We  can  take  care  of  all 
the  Sioux  that  come.  There  aren't  more  than  three 

277 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

thousand  of  them  off  the  reservation,  according  to 
the  Indian  Department  report;  and  only  six  or  eight 
hundred  of  these  are  warriors.  The  Seventh  Cavalry 
can  whip  them." 

:f  You  see,"  grunted  Isaiah.  "  There  as  many 
Sioux  off  reservation  as  on.  My  squaw  Sioux.  She 
know." 

"  We  don't  care,"  again  scoffed  "  Autie." 

When  the  Seventh  started,  the  next  noon,  they 
started  in  style.  They  passed  in  review  before  General 
Terry  and  General  Gibbon  and  General  Custer.  The 
general,  and  Captain  Tom  and  Adjutant  Cook  and  Cap 
tain  Keogh  wore  their  buckskin  suits ;  all  the  regiment 
were  natty  and  businesslike ;  the  band  played  "  Garry- 
owen  " — but  they  were  to  be  left  behind,  this  time,  were 
the  band.  General  Terry  smiled  and  saluted  each 
troop  as  in  platoons  they  swung  past.  On  prancing 
Dandy  the  general  sat  straight  and  proud,  for  this  was 
his  crack  regiment. 

That  evening  "  Autie  "  reported  upon  the  officers' 
council  which  was  held  at  the  general's  tent.  "  Uncle 
Autie  "  had  said  that  the  regiment  were  to  follow  the 
Sioux  even  if  the  trail  led  clear  to  the  Nebraska 
agencies;  and  it  must  be  done  on  the  fifteen  days' 
rations.  That  sounded  exactly  like  the  general.  Just 
as  General  Sheridan  had  cnce  declared,  when  he  wanted 
a  thing  done  quickly  he  sent  Custer. 

The  Rosebud  was  a  small  but  rapid  stream,  flow 
ing  north  through  a  bluffy,  bare  country.  The  Indian 

278 


LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

trail  was  struck  the  next  day.  There  were  lodge-pole 
marks  and  pony  tracks,  and  little  brush  wicki-ups  that 
looked  as  if  dogs  had  slept  under  them.  The  Ree  and 
Crow  scouts,  and  Charley  Reynolds  and  Isaiah  and 
other  scouts  not  Indians,  rode  in  the  advance,  closely 
examining  all  the  signs.  They  thought  that  the  trail 
was  about  ten  days  old. 

Over  to  the  right  was  the  Big  Horn  River,  running 
northeast  parallel  with  the  Rosebud.  But  between  was 
the  Little  Big  Horn,  which  flowing  northwest  emptied 
into  the  Big  Horn.  The  theory  was,  that  the  Sitting 
Bull  or  Crazy  Horse  village,  or  both,  were  in  on  the 
Little  Horn  or  the  Big  Horn.  The  Seventh  was  to 
swing  in  a  curve  and  meet  the  infantry  and  the  Gibbon 
column  about  where  the  Little  Horn  joined  the  Big 
Horn. 

That  Indians  were  over  there  somewhere  seemed 
certain ;  for  to-day,  Saturday,  June  24,  Curly  the  Crow 
scout  reported  through  Mitch  Bouyer  the  interpreter 
that  they  had  found  fresh  Indian  tracks;  and  they 
saw  signal  smokes  on  the  west,  or  the  right.  The 
main  trail  was  very  broad  and  beaten  to  dust  by  the 
hoofs  of  many,  many  ponies. 

"  Ike  says  the  dust  we're  making  will  be  seen  by 
the  Sioux,  sure,"  complained  "  Autie,"  much  concerned, 
at  noon  camp  finding  Ned.  "  The  Little  Big  Horn  is 
called  by  the  Sioux  '  Greasy  Grass  River/  It's  just 
beyond  those  hills.  They're  the  Wolf  Mountains.  The 

279 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Injuns  might  be  on  top,  spying  down  on  us.  Maybe 
we  won't  catch  'em." 

However,  General  Custer  knew  as  much  as  Isaiah. 
The  companies  were  ordered  to  march  at  wider 
intervals,  so  as  to  make  as  little  dust  as  possible;  and 
that  night  the  camp  was  pitched  under  a  flanking  bluff, 
and  fires  were  extinguished  as  soon  as  supper  had  been 
cooked.  The  trail  had  turned  off  from  the  valley  of 
the  Rosebud.  It  headed  for  the  west,  as  if  to  cross 
over  to  the  Little  Big  Horn.  The  first  sergeants  spread 
the  word  among  the  companies  for  the  men  to  be  ready 
to  march  again  at  eleven-thirty.  After  taps  there 
seemed  to  be  another  officers'  council,  by  candle-light 
at  headquarters.  Lying  in  his  blanket,  amidst  the 
dark,  while  officers  on  their  way  to  the  general's 
stepped  over  him,  Ned  could  tell  that  something  was 
up.  The  air  was  full  of  mystery  and  expectation. 

As  young  "  Autie  "  was  sound  asleep  in  his  own 
blanket,  Ned,  like  other  men  in  the  ranks,  did  not  know 
precisely  what  the  officers  had  talked  about.  But  at 
11.30  the  silent  reveille — which  was  touch  of  hand  and 
low  word  by  the  sergeants  and  corporals — was 
"  sounded,"  and  by  column  of  fours  the  regiment  rode 
out  through  the  dusty  dusk;  the  train  of  pack  mules 
followed. 

It  was  slow  going.  Long  after  midnight  the  com 
mand  to  halt  was  passed  down  the  column ;  and  pres 
ently  was  it  known  that  the  scouts  claimed  they  could 

280 


LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

not  guide  them  any  further  across  the  divide  until 
daylight 

Everybody  waited.  Daylight  was  near.  In  about 
an  hour  the  east  began  to  brighten;  in  another  hour 
there  was  light  enough  for  making  coffee.  Carrying 
a  message,  from  Captain  Benteen,  Ned  had  another 
glimpse  of  "  Autie,"  who  was  going  back  to  the  horse 
herd. 

"  Hello,"  hailed  "  Autie."  "  You  ought  to  have 
been  there!  Uncle  Autie  and  the  Injun  scouts  have 
been  talking,  and  Bloody  Knife  said  to  the  others: 
'  We'll  find  enough  Sioux  to  keep  us  all  fighting  two  or 
three  days.'  And  Uncle  Autie  just  smiled  and  said: 
'  Oh,  I  guess  we'll  get  through  with  them  in  one  day ! ' 
Those  Rees  are  awful  scared.  It's  going  to  be  a  big 
battle,  I  bet.  I  wonder  if  we'll  fight  on  Sunday.  I've 
got  to  tend  to  my  horses.  Good-by." 

The  sun  was  well  up.  It  was  a  glorious  June  day ; 
and  it  was  the  25th,  or  Sunday,  as  "  Autie  "  had  re 
marked.  Pretty  soon,  while  the  troops  were  still 
waiting  and  resting  and  wondering,  the  general  came 
riding  down  the  column.  He  was  bareback,  on  Vic. 
His  face  was  aglow,  under  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  his 
yellow  hair  and  tawny  moustache  shone,  but  his  blue 
eyes  were  weary  and  puckered,  with  a  trace  of  worry. 

"  We  march  at  eight  o'clock,  Benteen,"  he  directed, 
to  the  captain.  "  The  scouts  have  spied  the  location 
of  the  Indian  camp  about  fifteen  miles  ahead,  over 
on  the  Little  Horn.  A  lot  of  smoke  and  '  heap  ponies.' 

281 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Varnum  reports  they  passed  some  bodies,  on  Sioux 
scaffolding.  Let  me  have  Fletcher  as  my  orderly." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  responded  Captain  Benteen ;  and 
the  general  trotted  on.  At  a,  nod  from  the  captain,  Ned 
made  haste  to  mount  and  follow. 

"  Probably  we  approach  as  close  as  we  can,  to 
reconnoiter;  and  early  in  the  morning  we'll  attack," 
was  remarking  to  the  captain  Lieutenant  Gibson,  as 
Ned  sped  away. 

"  There  can't  be  more  than  twelve  or  fifteen 
hundred.  We  can  trim  that  number  easy,"  was  the 
answer. 

Who  was  there  to  tell  that  over  the  ridge,  well 
concealed  in  the  crooked  valley  of  the  Little  Big  Horn, 
lay  in  one  great  village — another  village  like  the  vil 
lage  on  the  Washita,  only  larger — the  allied  bands  of 
the  Oglalas,  the  Minneconjous,  the  Sans  Arc  or  Bow- 
less,  the  Brules  or  Burnt  Thighs,  the  Hunkpapas,  the 
Blackfeet,  the  Northern  Cheyennes:  15,000  Indians, 
with  at  least  3000  of  them  fighters  well-armed  and 
commanded  by  wise  Gall  and  other  mighty  chiefs. 
The  flower  of  the  Sioux  nation,  they  feared  no  white 
soldiers.  They  asked  only  to  be  let  alone. 

Ned  now  riding  with  the  general,  the  march  was 
along  a  little  pass  through  the  hills  of  the  divide. 
About  the  middle  of  the  morning  halt  was  again 
ordered,  in  a  ravine. 

But  taking  Adjutant  Cook  and  his  orderlies  and 
Bloody  Knife  the  general  galloped  ahead  to  join  the 

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LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

scouts  on  a  ridge  before.  Ned  and  Sergeant  Butler 
of  Captain  Tom's  troop  (he  was  the  other  orderly) 
must  hold  the  horses  while  the  general  and  the  adjutant 
stole  forward  afoot,  to  survey  over  the  ridge. 

"  Smoke,"  commented  Sergeant  Butler,  nodding. 

Beyond  the  ridge  hung  a  film  of  smoke,  mingled 
with  dust.  When  the  officers  returned,  by  their  talk 
they  had  sighted  through  their  glasses  a  pony  herd 
also.  The  Indian  village  must  be  down  there. 

In  the  ravine  again  it  was  hot ;  the  brush  quivered 
in  the  heat  reflected  by  the  rocks.  The  column  were 
waiting,  expectant.  The  Rees  were  in  a  group, 
stripped  as  for  a  fight.  Their  medicine-man,  Bob-tail 
Bull,  was  passing  from  one  to  another,  smearing  them 
with  an  oil,  to  make  them  safe  against  the  weapons 
of  the  enemy.  The  Crows  were  squatting,  witnessing. 

Captain  Tom  came  galloping  to  meet  the  general. 

"  Keogh  reports  that  the  detail  sent  back  by  Yates 
to  get  the  hardtack  he  dropped  ran  into  a  Sioux,  open 
ing  one  of  the  boxes  with  his  hatchet.  The  fellow 
made  off,  till  out  of  range;  then  he  rode  leisurely  along 
the  ridge,  sizing  us  up." 

"  Sound  officers'  call,"  bade  the  general,  to  Ned. 

The  officers  gathered. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  general,  "  Indians  have 
been  seen  on  the  back  trail  and  on  the  hills,  and  our 
presence  must  be  well  known.  This  will  necessitate 
our  attacking  at  once,  instead  of  waiting  until  the 
early  morning,  as  I  had  intended.  If  we  wait,  the 

283 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

village  will  scatter  and  got  away.  Each  troop  com 
mander  will  detail  a  non-commissioned  officer  and  six 
men  to  accompany  the  packs.  The  troops  will  be  in 
spected  for  action.  The  column  will  form  in  the  order 
in  which  final  reports  are  made,  and  the  first  troop  re 
ported  ready  will  be  given  the  post  of  honor,  in  the 
advance." 

Captain  French,  M  Troop,  won  the  honor;  and 
speedily  all  the  troops  were  reported  "  Ready,  sir." 

"Prepare  to  mount — mount!  For-r'd — march!" 
To  fight  the  Sioux,  onward  rode  the  eager  Seventh. 
"  Autie "  had  hastened  forward.  Ned  was  the 
general's  orderly,  just  as  he  had  been  at  the  battle  of 
theWashita.  What  luck! 

The  divide  had  been  crossed,  for  now  the  trail 
seemed  to  be  more  down  hill.  The  Rosebud  was  be 
hind;  the  Little  Big  Horn  before;  but  the  hills  still 
enclosed  on  all  sides.  Another  halt  was  made,  and  the 
column  reformed  into  three  battalions.  So  the  attack 
would  be  launched  in  several  blows — also  just  as  at 
the  Washita.  This  was  the  general's  favorite  mode  of 
fighting.  He  had  used  it  in  the  Civil  War,  too. 

Major  Reno  had  the  first  battalion,  of  three  com 
panies  and  the  scouts ;  the  general  had  five  companies ; 
Captain  Benteen  had  three,  and  B  Company  under 
Captain  McDougall  escorted  the  pack-train  and  the 
loose  horses.  The  general  kept  Vic  for  his  battle- 
horse  ;  Dandy  was  put  with  the  extras. 

884 


LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

Captain  Benteen's  battalion  swung  off  to  the  left, 
on  a  circuit  down  another  valley.  Major  Reno's 
column  also  veered  to  the  left  more.  The  general 
drew  even  with  him,  across  on  the  right  side  of  the 
first  valley. 

As  the  Iwo  columns  pushed  aliead,  Ned's  heart 
beat  as  it  always  beat  before  a  fight.  He  was  seeing 
Indians,  in  the  rocks  and  the  brush — but  they  vanished 
when  he  looked  hard.  He  was  not  afraid;  no,  not 
afraid.  General  Custer  himself  commanded,  and  the 
very  best  officers  of  the  regiment  were  here:  gallant 
Captain  Tom,  and  brave  Captain  Keogh  of  two  great 
wars,  and  Captain  Yates  the  dandy,  and  Lieutenant 
Smith  with  crippled  arm,  and  Lieutenant  Calhoun  who 
had  married  Maggie  Custer,  and  Lieutenant  "  Queen's 
Own  "  Cook  the  adjutant.  They  all  had  been  at  the 
battle  of  the  Washita.  And  here  were  Captain  Lord 
the  surgeon  and  little  "  Autie  "  and  good  old  "  Bos  " 
and  the  civilian  Mr.  Kellogg,  who  wrote  for  the  New 
York  Herald.  Isaiah  the  black  squaw-man  and  "  Lone 
some  "  Charley  Reynolds  were  over  there  with  Major 
Reno. 

But  where  were  the  Sioux?  How  long  before  the 
Little  Big  Horn  would  be  reached,  where  stood  the 
village  ? 

The  Ree  and  the  Crow  scouts  were  spread  out, 
across  the  valley.  He  could  see  Bloody  Knife,  and 
Bob-tail  Bull  and  Stab  and  Half -Yellow-Face  and 

285 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

Curly  the  Crow  who  spoke  English.  Now  they  all  had 
gathered  in  a  group,  and  had  made  a  smoke.  Yes — 
there  were  some  Sioux !  The  scouts  had  left  the  smoke 
and  were  chasing  other  riders;  just  a  few.  When  the 
troops  reached  the  place  of  the  smoke  they  found  it 
to  be  from  a;  tipi  with  a  dead  Sioux  inside.  The  scouts 
had  set  fire  to  the  tipi,  and  had  chased  Sioux  warriors 
out  of  the  place  which  seemed  to  have  been  a  small 
village  camp. 

"Oh,  Cook,"  called  the  general;  and  Adjutant 
Cook  trotted  to  him.  "  Tell  Reno  the  Indians  are 
running  away.  The  village  must  be  only  about  two 
miles  off  yonder.  Tell  him  to  move  on  at  as  rapid 
a  gait  as  he  thinks  prudent,  and  when  he  strikes  the 
village  to  charge;  and  the  whole  outfit  will  support 
him." 

Adjutant  Cook  galloped  across  to  Major  Reno. 
Major  Reno  turned  in  his  saddle  to  give  the  order; 
his  column  broke  into  a  fast  trot ;  and  amidst  a  cloud 
of  dust  away  they  went,  forging  ahead,  veering  to 
the  left  as  they  followed  the  trail  down  beside  a  little 
stream,  and  around  the  point  of  a  high  ridge.  The 
Little  Big  Horn  was  close  before,  at  the  end  of  the 
valley ! 

But  the  general  led  his  column  away  from  the 
trail,  more  to  the  right.  Everybody  listened,  while 
peering;  listened  for  the  cheers  and  the  volleys  of  the 
major  or  of  Captain  Benteen. 

286 


LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

"  Steady,  men,"  warned  Captain  Keogh,  on  his 
horse  Comanche,  to  his  company,  behind  Ned's 
position. 

They  were  climbing  the  hither  flank  of  the  ridge 
around  which  Major  Reno  now  had  disappeared.  The 
moments  seemed  hours.  With  thud  of  rapid  hoof  came 
galloping  from  the  rear  a  trooper;  he  was  a  corporal, 
Major  Reno's  orderly.  By  the  general's  side  he  pulled 
short  to  his  horse's  haunches  and  saluted. 

"  The  Major's  compliments,  sir,  and  says  he  is  at 
the  river  and  has  everything  in  front  of  him  and  they 
are  strong." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  answered  the  general.  His  voice 
was  brusque,  tense  with  energy.  "  Adjutant,  you'd 
better  send  somebody  back  with  orders  for  that  pack- 
train  and  ammunition  to  hurry  along." 

And  Adjutant  Cook  sent  a  sergeant  from  the  non-r 
commissioned  staff.  Ned  had  forgotten  his  name. 
Away  he  dashed. 

They  continued  to  climb,  diagonaling  the  slope. 
At  any  moment  they  would  hear  the  shouts  and  shots 
of  the  Reno  men,  the  whoops  and  shots  of  the  Sioux. 

"  We're  going  i~>  have  a  big  fight,  I  guess,"  again 
ventured  "  Autie,"  dropping  back  a  few  paces  to  ride 
with  Ned.  His  voice  was  tremulous,  his  brown  face 
was  paled,  but  his  eyes  were  snapping.  Ned  gravely 
nodded. 

The  general  had  spurred  impatiently ;  and  in  a  little 
squad  making  for  a  high  knoll  ahead,  they  gradually 

287 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

left  the  column.  The  general  first  reached  the  top  of 
the  knoll.  He  had  been  craning  anxiously,  searching 
for  the  view  beyond.  Now  he  hauled  short  on  Vic,  as 
if  surprised.  Adjutant  Cook  immediately  joined  him. 
They  intently  peered.  So  did  "  Autie."  Ned  pressed 
forward,  to  see.  On  the  left,  before  and  below,  lay 
the  valley  of  the  Greasy  Grass  and  the  Sioux  village. 

An  irregular  line  of  green  willows  and  cotton- 
woods  marked  the  course  of  a  very  crooked  stream 
flowing  evidently  between  high  banks,  amidst  rolling 
bluffs.  High,  dark  mountains  rose  far  southward, 
shutting  in  a  level  plateau.  But  of  these  Ned  took 
only  a  glimpse,  for  something  of  more  importance  was 
closer  at  hand. 

The  valley  of  the  crooked  stream  was  a  mile  and  a 
half  away,  yet,  partially  concealed  by  another  and 
lower  ridge.  But  over  the  ridge  was  floating  brown 
dust,  from  some  commotion;  and  yonder  along  the 
stream  was  floating  more  dust.  The  white  lodges  of 
the  Sioux  gleamed  through  it,  as  they  clustered  for  a 
mile  and  more  of  length !  A  tremendous  village,  this ! 
Ant-like  figures  were  moving  hither-thither ;  the  pony 
herds  (which  made  the  dust)  were  grazing  on  the 
plateau  beyond  the  tipis;  shrill  cries  of  squaws,  and 
the  barking  of  dogs,  wafted  faintly  through  the  still, 
sunny  air.  Ned  looked  to  see  Major  Reno's  column, 
but  they  were  not  yet  visible. 

"'A.  big  one!"  exclaimed  the  general,  his  face 
glowing.  "  Good !  Send  another  order  back  to  Ben- 

£88 


HERE,  TAKE  THAT  TO  CAPTAIN  BENTEEX,  AND  DON  T  SPARE 
YOUR  HORSE " 


LOOKING  FOR  SITTING  BULL 

teen,  Cook.  We  must  have  those  packs  with  their 
ammunition  at  once,  and  more  men." 

Lieutenant  Cook  jerked  out  his  field  note-book, 
and  with  his  pencil  stub  hastily  scrawled,  resting  the 
book  upon  his  buckskin  knee.  As  he  wrote,  digging 
hard  in  his  earnestness,  he  read : 

"  Benteen,  come  on.  Big  village.  Be  quick. 
Bring  packs." 

He  glanced  over  it,  once,  and  added  another  word 
or  two.  He  thrust  the  folded  paper  at  Ned. 

"  Here,"  he  said,  crisply.  "  Take  that  to  Captain 
Benteen,  and  don't  spare  your  horse." 


XXIV 
SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 


SALUTING,  around  wheeled  Ned.  He  had  one 
glimpse  of  the  general's  face.  The  blue  eyes  were 
blazing,  the  broad-brimmed  hat  was  being  swung  to 
the  column  urging  forward  at  a  trot. 

"  We've  caught  'em  asleep,  boys ! "  cheered  the 
general's  high,  clear  voice.  "  Now  for  a  charge!  " 

Down  along  the  column  Ned  went  thundering,  fof 
the  back  trail.  Familiar  faces,  dusty  and  sweaty,  but 
resolute  all,  grinned  at  him;  a  hand  or  two  waved. 
From  the  murk  at  the  rear  of  the  eager  ranks  he  looked 
behind  him.  The  column  had  topped  the  ridge. 
Headed  by  the  general  and  the  adjutant  and  young 
"  Autie,"  the  stars  and  stripes  and  the  headquarters  or 
"  general's  own  "  flag  close  following,  with  the  cavalry 
guidons  of  red  and  white  streaming  In  the  sun  to  mark 
each  troop,  horses  at  hard  trot,  men  leaning  forward, 
hat-brims  flaring,  bridle-hands  forward,  carbines  and 
pistols  not  yet  drawn,  rank  by  rank,  guidon  by  guidon 
they  dipped  over,  into  a  hollow,  and  disappeared. 
They  were  gone ;  but  they  left  a  cheer  behind. 

Ned  did  not  look  again.    He  had  his  duty  to  per- 

290 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

form.  He  was  not  certain  as  to  where  he  would  find 
Major  Benteen;  but  it  would  be  somewhere  toward 
the  river;  the  branching  of  the  trails  would  guide. 

"  Go  on!  Go  on!  "  he  urged,  into  the  pricked  ears 
of  his  horse,  another  "  Buckie." 

"Thud-ity  thud!  Thud-ity  thud!  Thud-ity 
thud !  "  The  brush  and  the  rocks  reeled  dizzily  past, 
the  brown  trail  of  many  hoofs  flowed  under.  He  ex 
tracted  the  message  from  his  blouse,  to  read  it  and  to 
be  sure  of  it  in  case  it  was  lost.  Yes,  that  was  it  in 
Adjutant  Cook's  hasty  scrawl: 

Benteen,  come  on.    Big 
Village.    Be  quick. 
Bring  packs. 

COOK,  adj't. 
P.  S.     Bring  packs. 

"  Cl'k !  "  clucked  Ned  to  Buckie ;  and  pricked  him 
again  with  the  spurs.  They  must  make  it.  The 
general  would  be  depending  upon  them.  Adjutant 
Cook  had  repeated  the  words  "  Bring  packs,"  which 
showed  how  important  was  the  matter. 

"Thud-ity  thud!  Thud-ity  thud!  Thud-ity 
thud ! "  The  lather  was  white  where  the  bridle  reins 
rubbed  Buckie's  wet  neck;  his  breath  whistled,  occa 
sionally  he  snorted  to  blow  from  his  straining  nostrils 
the  dust  and  moisture;  but  he  never  faltered.  Good 
horse ! 

Far  and  faint  from  the  right  were  heard  a  spatter 
ing  of  rifle-shots,  like  a  skirmish  fire;  and  then  cheers! 

291 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

That  must  be  Major  Reno,  or  Captain  Benteen;  and 
off  there  would  lie  the  river. 

Gallop,  gallop,  up  the  back  trail,  with  the  rounded 
slopes,  sagey  and  hot,  girding  the  long,  long  way. 
Where  was  Captain  Benteen?  Where  was  the  pack- 
train  ?  Ah,  here  came  somebody — a  rider  also  gallop 
ing  hard.  Out  whipped  Ned's  revolver ;  but  soon  the 
speck  resolved  into  a  man  in  white-man's  garb. 
Looked  like  a  soldier.  It  was  "Bos!"  "Bos" 
Custer,  forage-master. 

He  saw  Ned,  and  waved.  Ned  drew  rein  barely 
for  a  moment,  as  they  met. 

"  Where  you  been  ?  " 

"  Back  to  get  a  fresh  horse." 

"  Where's  Captain  Benteen  ?    Seen  him  ?  " 

"  Just  left  him.  Straight  on.  Keep  the  trail. 
A  fight,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  You  bet."  And  Ned  was  away,  in  the  one 
direction ;  "  Bos  "  galloped  on  to  join  his  big  brother. 
Five  of  the  Custer  family  were  to  be  together  in  that 
battle :  three  brothers,  a  brother-in-law,  and  a  nephew. 

Ned  kept  watch  ahead  for  any  token  of  the  Ben 
teen  column.  Hurrah!  There  they  were — a  long 
mass  of  dusty  blue,  moving  at  a  trot,  down  the  trail, 
Captain  Benteen  and  his  aide  leading.  The  pack-train 
was  not  in  sight.  On  galloped  Ned  (revolver  stowed 
again  in  holster),  and  met  Captain  Benteen,  who  had 
been  watching  his  approach. 

292 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

"  A  dispatch  from  headquarters,  sir,"  panted  Ned, 
holding  it  out. 

As  he  rode,  Captain  Benteen  rapidly  read  it.  Ned 
held  himself  prepared  at  a  word  to  whirl  and  carry 
the  order  on  to  the  packs.  But  as  the  captain  read, 
the  spattering  of  shots  in  the  distance  before  suddenly 
swelled  to  a  continuous  clamor.  The  captain  raised 
his  head,  listening,  gazing.  Louder,  and  louder,  rang 
the  gun-fire,  as  if  the  battle  was  approaching.  The 

Indians  were  being  driven  this  way?  What ? 

But  the  captain's  order  rang  smartly. 

"  B'tal\-yun,  draw — pistols !     Gallop — march !  " 

With  a  cheer  they  lunged  ahead,  pistols  held  high, 
eyes  alert,  ready  to  meet  the  fleeing  Sioux  and  turn 
them  back  again. 

The  valley  widened;  in  this  direction  had  ridden 
the  Major  Reno  battalion,  recalled  Ned,  as  he,  too, 
galloped,  pistol  high. 

"  Right  and  left  into  line — march !  "  shouted  Cap 
tain  Benteen,  to  cover  the  ground  with  battle  front 

Then,  as  all  were  galloping,  forming  the  line,  the 
draw  opened  upon  a  wide  cross  valley,  and  there  was 
the  battle  field — a  brushy,  broken  arena,  cut  by  the 
willow-bordered  crooked  stream,  hazy  with  smoke 
of  burning  grass  and  powder  through  which  echoed 
shot  and  shout  and  chant,  and  through  which  dimly 
could  be  seen  horsemen  careering  in  all  directions,  as 
if  attacking  a  common  object  in  their  midst.  Upon 

203 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

a  bluff  to  the  right  was  another  battle — soldiers  above, 
Indians  below. 

The  gallop  quickly  ceased.  Now  where  to  go,  or 
what  to  do,  first  ? 

"  Look  out !    Here  come  some !  " 

The  cry  and  the  murmur  swept  from  man  to  man. 
•A  confused  mass  was  rapidly  bearing  up  the  valley, 
toward  them. 

"  No,  that's  all  right.  They've  signaled.  They're 
Crows,  with  a  pony  herd." 

So  they  were.  As  they  wildly  scampered  past, 
driving  off  their  spoils,  Indian-fashion,  voices  hailed 
them,  inquiring  where  was  Reno,  where  was  Custer. 
One  of  the  Crows  waved  his  hand  at  the  bluff. 

"  Soldiers  there,"  he  said. 

"  Right  oblique,  trot — march !  "  ordered  Captain 
Benteen.  And  for  the  bluff  they  made. 

The  men  upon  the  bluff  proved  to  be  Major  Reno 
and  his  battalion.  They  were  dismounted,  and  were 
firing  at  long  range  down  the  slopes.  The  fighting 
below  had  been  by  the  rear  guard,  in  the  retreat  to  the 
bluff.  Major  Reno  wore  a  handkerchief  tied  about 
his  head.  Ned  thought  that  he  'had  been  wounded, 
but  he  had  only  lost  his  hat.  He  had  lost  his  revolver, 
too.  He  greeted  Major  Benteen  feverishly. 

"Where's  Custer?     Have  you  seen  Custer?" 

"  No." 

"  Neither  have  I.    He  promised  to  support  me.    It 

294 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

was  too  hot  in  there  for  us.  We  were  driven  out. 
Five  to  one."  The  major  appeared  almost  beside 
himself.  "Why,  I  tell  you  we're  fighting  all  the 
Sioux  nation,  and  all  the  outlaws  and  half-breeds  east 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Dismount  your  men,  cap 
tain,  and  deploy  them  as  skirmishers  along  that  hill 
on  the  south." 

Yes,  Major  Reno  and  his  200  men  had  started  in 
to  charge  the  village,  across  the  river;  but  it  had 
looked  as  if  they  were  being  drawn  on  into  an  am 
bush;  when  they  had  halted,  to  survey,  out  had 
swarmed  the  Sioux,  thicker  and  thicker.  Afoot  they 
came,  and  ahorse.  "  Hi-yih  hi-yih  yip-yip-yip !  "  had 
they  cried,  frightfully.  The  Rees,  on  the  left  flank, 
had  fled  pell-mell.  The  major  had  dismounted  his  men 
in  some  timber;  but  no  Custer  was  in  sight,  the  Indians 
were  surrounding,  and  he  had  ordered  a  retreat  to  the 
bluff  on  this  side. 

That  had  been  a  close  call.  In  the  retreat  Lieu 
tenant  Don  Mclntosh  and  Lieutenant  Benny  Hodg 
son  the  acting  adjutant  had  been  killed,  and  so  had 
Doctor  DeWolf,  and  "  Lonesome  "  Charley  Reynolds, 
and  black  Isaiah.  Faithful  Bloody  Knife,  too,  had 
fallen;  struck  down,  said  somebody,  at  Major  Reno's 
side.  Twenty-nine  other  men  also  were  dead.  A  score 
were  missing.  The  bodies  of  most  of  the  killed  were 
down  there  still. 

The  battalion  might  have  done  better  had  they 
stayed  in  the  timber  by  the  village  and  fought  dis- 

295 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

mounted.  But  where  was  Custer?  Where  was  the 
general  ? 

The  bugles  shrilled. 

"  Cease  firing,  men !  Cease  firing ! "  bade  the 
sergeants,  along  the  skirmish  line  of  kneeling  men, 
protecting  the  bluff. 

Now  might  all  pause  from  squinting  over  hot 
carbine  barrels,  and  wipe  foreheads.  The  Indians  in 
the  valley  were  galloping  away,  along  the  hills  and 
stream,  toward  the  north. 

What  was  the  matter  there  ?  Oh !  Listen !  Cus 
ter  must  be  in  action.  His  carbines  were  rattling  fast 
and  faster.  Why  doesn't  he  send  some  word,  though  ? 
Why  was  the  battalion  kept  here?  Why  didn't  the 
major  order  an  advance? 

Listen  now!  Crash!  Volley  firing!  And  again 
"  Crash !  "  Another.  Surely  "  Old  Curly  "  was  giv 
ing  it  to  them  heavy.  Who  was  that  coming?  Ah, 
McDougall  and  the  packs.  Good!  The  general  had 
sent  word  for  the  packs ;  wasn't  it  time  to  push  ahead 
in  force  and  join  him,  or  help  him  out  by  attack? 

Water  was  needed;  but  when  soldiers  tried  to  get 
it  from  the  river  below  they  were  promptly  fired  upon. 
The  shooting  in  the  direction  where  the  general  was 
died  away  to  a  fitful  clatter;  few  Indians  were  to  be 
seen;  and  at  last  Major  Reno  did  order  a  movement 
north  on  the  bluffs,  toward  the  general.  Then  the1 
Indians  gathered  fast  and  furious,  and  the  command 
was  driven  back  to  the  first  bluff.  The  general's  bat- 

296 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

talion  had  been  in  sight,  two  miles  distant,  on  a  hill. 
At  least,  over  there  was  an  eddy  of  riding  and  irregu 
lar  firing.  From  the  place  many  Indians  suddenly 
came  hurrying  to  attack  the  other  white  soldiers.  So 
it  looked  as  if  the  general  had  been  defeated  and  his 
rear-guard  had  been  defending  his  retreat. 

But  why  didn't  he  send  a  courier  through  or  make 
signals,  to  inform  the  rest  of  the  regiment? 

The  bluff  was  a  lively  spot.  Thicker  and  thicker 
the  Sioux  and  the  Cheyennes  were  besieging  it.  From 
every  side,  from  above  as  well  as  from  below,  shrieked 
their  taunts,  whined  their  bullets.  The  day  was 
almost  spent  As  the  sun  sank  into  the  desolate  hills 
the  red  foe  yelped  the  louder,  fired  the  faster;  every 
bunch  of  sage  and  every  rock  seemed  to  harbor  an 
Indian;  'down  by  the  willow-bordered  stream  the 
squaws  sang  vengefully  in  the  village  still  standing 
and  triumphant. 

Even  at  twilight  the  Indians  did  not  dare  to  charge. 
Steadily  and  desperately  the  soldiers  replied  to  their 
bullets.  Officer  and  man  shot  as  one ;  and  Ned  among 
them.  His  stubby  cavalry  carbine  repeatedly  jammed 
on  him.  It  wouldn't  extract  the  shell.  On  right  and 
left  he  heard  his  mates  complaining  of  their  carbines 
also.  They  must  stop  and  use  their  knife-blades,  to 
pry  loose  the  shells. 

The  twilight  faded;  the  dusk  settled;  and  the 
Indians  quit.  The  reports  of  rifle  and  carbine  ceased ; 
and  for  an  instant  quiet  blessed  the  valley.  Ned  was 

297 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

glad  to  rise  and  stretch  his  cramped  legs  and  back, 
and  look  about. 

"  Hark !  "  again  cautioned  somebody.  "  I  hear 
commands!  Troops  are  coming!  Hurrah  for  Crook !" 

"Don't  you  see  them  over  there?  Right  over 
there  against  the  sky-line!  Ah — now  they've  dis 
appeared.  But  they're  coming — Terry  or  Crook  or 
Custer!  Hurrah!" 

"  Hurrah !  "  welled  the  cheers,  from  this  hill  and 
all  along  the  bluff,  where  the  Reno  men  also  were 
stirred. 

"  Sound  stables,  Fletcher,"  bade  Captain  Ben- 
teen,  of  Ned.  "  Loud  as  you  can,  to  reach  them  and 
guide  them." 

With  parched  and  cracked  lips  Ned  did  his  best, 
pealing  from  his  battered  trumpet  the  rollicking, 
familiar  tune : 

Come  off  to  the  stable  all  ye  who  are  able, 
And  give  your  horses  some  oats  and  some  corn; 
For  if  you  don't  do  it  your  colonel  will  know  it, 
And  then  you  will  rue  it  as  sure  as  you're  born. 

"Now  listen!" 

It  did  seem  as  though  answering  bugle  call  floated 
in  through  the  dusk.  But  after  shots  had  been  fired, 
and  more  calls  had  been  sounded,  officers  and  men 
must  agree  that  their  hopes  deceived  them.  Nobody 
was  coming.  So  where  was  Custer? 

Barricades  of  boxes  and  horse  carcasses  were  being 
piled  up,  and  the  order  went  forth  to  scoop  out  rifle 

298 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

pits,  for  the  next  day's  fight.  The  darkness  gradually 
settled.  There  was  no  water  for  coffee,  and  every 
mouth  was  too  dry  to  chew  bread.  The  bluff  was 
miserable,  but  the  village  below  was  gay.  Great  fires 
flared  redly;  and  about  them  the  Indians  were  pranc 
ing  and  yelping  in  a  tremendous  scalp  dance.  With 
flames  and  shrieks  and  hoots  and  firing  of  guns  and 
beating  of  tom-toms  the  dances  lasted  all  night.  But 
the  Indians  were  not  unmindful  of  the  watchers  on 
the  bluff;  for  when  Major  Reno  sent  out  scouts  to 
find  an  open  way  they  speedily  crept  back,  with  word 
that  they  had  encountered  nothing  but  Sioux,  Sioux, 
Sioux,  everywhere. 

No  matter;  Custer  would  come,  in  the  morning; 
and  soon  would  come  Terry  and  Gibbon,  and  Crook 
the  Gray  Fox. 

The  digging  of  the  little  rifle-pits  took  most  of  the 
night.  Ned  had  been  helping  one  of  the  squads.  They 
had  finished  their  pit,  and  he  had  closed  his  eyes,  for 
a  moment  (he  was  so  tired!),  when  he  wakened  with 
a  jump.  Two  rifle-shots  echoed  in  his  ears.  To  the 
signal  up-swelled  a  hideous  clamor  again,  of  whoops 
and  rapid  reports;  the  bullets  pelted  in,  ringing  upon 
the  rocks  and  cutting  the  dry  earth  and  the  brittle 
sage.  There  was  no  need  for  "  Assembly  " ;  into  the 
pits  dived  the  men. 

The  east  was  barely  pink.  Dawn  scarce  had 
arrived.  The  hour  must  be  very  early.  But  for  white 
and  red  the  day  had  begun. 

299 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Give  it  to  'em,  men ;  give  it  to  'em,  but  be  careful 
how  you  shoot.  Make  every  bullet  tell."  The  sharp 
words  of  Captain  Benteen  and  Lieutenant  Gibson,  as 
they  walked  up  and  down  behind  Troop  H,  steadied 
the  nerves  of  all. 

How  fast  the  bullets  rained  in !  They  struck  from 
before  and  from  behind.  As  the  dawn  brightened, 
the  feathered  chiefs  could  be  seen  gesturing  and  com 
manding,  while  hither-thither  ran  their  naked  war 
riors,  to  occupy  better  positions.  There  were  swarms 
of  them;  swarms! 

"  For  the  love  o'  Saint  Patrick,  but  they're  all 
sharp-shooters !  "  gasped  Private  McDermott,  at  Ned's 
elbow.  "  An'  half  o'  them  are  out  o*  range  of  us,  wid 
these  sawed-off  carbines." 

So  they  were — all  sharp-shooters.  Fast  and  true 
their  lead  picked,  picked,  at  the  rifle-pits  and  barri 
cades;  searched  the  hollow  where  were  herded  the 
pack-mules  and  the  extra  horses.  Along  the  line  of 
H  company  men  were  being  killed,  some  by  bullet? 
from  behind.  Mules  and  horses  screamed  with 
wounds.  Powder  reek  filled  the  still  air.  One's  head 
ached  with  the  noise,  one's  throat  smarted  with  the 
smoke. 

Major  Reno,  in  his  position  to  the  north,  must  lie 
low;  must  lie  low  Captain  Benteen  and  every  other 
officer.  The  Indians  were  creeping  closer.  By  little 
dashes  and  rushes  they  stole  up,  through  the  brush. 

300 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

With  whisli  and  patter  arrows  began  to  eke  out  the 
hail  of  bullets. 

"  Must  be  short  o'  ammunition,"  muttered  Private 
McDermott. 

"Wait!  I'll  get  one  of  those  red  beggars,"  ex 
claimed  Private  Burns.  From  his  place  he  crawled 
forward,  hugging  the  brush,  for  better  aim.  On  he 
went,  peering;  but  see!  Half-up  he  sprang,  and  fell, 
crumpled  into  a  lax  heap. 

With  exultant  whoop  a  painted,  glistening  coppery 
figure  darted  toward  him,  speeding  like  a  deer,  coup- 
stick,  ten  feet  long,  out-stretched  to  touch  his  body 
and  claim  a  scalp.  But  half  a  dozen  carbines  spoke 
together,  and  the  painted,  glistening  coppery  figure 
collapsed  to  a  dully  red  mass. 

Bold?  Yes.  There  between  the  lines  lay  soldier 
and  Sioux,  while  over  them  passed  and  repassed  bullet 
and  arrow,  shout  andi  groan.  Truly,  the  fight  was 
growing  more  'desperate. 

"  That  won't  do,"  spoke  Captain  Benteen.  Major 
Reno  had  come  over.  "We'll  have  to  act  quick,  or 
they'll  be  running  into  our  lines.  We  must  'drive  them 
back,  major;  drive  them  back." 

"  Get  your  men  ready  for  a  charge,  then,"  directed 
the  major. 

"All  ready,  men,"  called  the  captain,  briskly. 
"  Now's  your  time.  Hip,  hip,  here  we  go !  Give  it 
to  'em !  Give  it  to  'em !  " 

301 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

"  Hurrah !  "  cheered  Lieutenant  Gibson. 

Out  from  shelter  and  down  the  sagey  slope  surged 
the  blue-shirted  line.  Ned  took  no  time  to  blow  the 
"  Charge  " ;  he  was  shooting.  Lead  and  not  brass 
was  needed.  The  carbines  roared,  the  men  shouted 
fiercely,  and  for  the  river  broke  the  Indians. 

"Back,  men!  Get  back!"  ordered  Major  Reno, 
following  with  the  other  officers,  close  behind. 

So  it  was  into  the  rifle-pits  again. 

Noon  was  near;  either  the  Indians  were  out  of 
ammunition,  or  else  they  were  exhausted,  for  the  firing 
by  them  slackened.  Acting  Adjutant  Hare  came 
hastening  to  Captain  Benteen. 

"  The  major's  compliments,  and  will  you  advance 
your  skirmish  line  to  cover  volunteers  getting  water." 

The  water-getters  were  making  way,  by  hollow  and 
ravine,  toward  the  river  in  front.  They  carried  camp- 
kettles  and  bunches  of  canteens.  Dangerous  work  was 
this,  and  some  of  them  were  wounded ;  but  they  filled 
the  canteens.  These  were  handed  along  the  lines. 
Ah,  but  it  was  good,  to  have  a  drink  at  last ! 

The  sun  had  traveled  from  east  across  to  the  west. 
The  afternoon  waxed  and  waned;  sometimes  the 
Indians  shot  angrily;  sometimes  they  seemed  to  be 
resting.  What  was  to  occur  next?  What  were  they 
scheming?  The  officers  walked  about,  bidding  the 
men  be  ready  and  not  afraid. 

"  Sure,  but  looks  to  me  as  if  the  beggars  were 
leavin',"  mused  Private  McDermott,  gazing  puzzled. 

302 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

Then,  toward  sunset  and  the  close  of  this  the 
second  day  of  fighting,  from  the  bluff  arose  a  murmur 
and  a  cry.  The  Indians  were  quitting,  and  riding  off ! 
'Twas  too  good  to  be  true;  but  nevertheless  tipis  were 
falling,  as  the  squaws  labored  hard  to  pack  the  village. 
Soon  billows  of  fresh  smoke  rolled  up.  The  grass 
had  again  been  fired;  figures  could  be  seen  behind  it, 
fanning  it  with  blankets. 

Officers  and  men  stared.  In  the  cool  glow  of 
twilight  the  whole  village — or  what  looked  to  be  the 
whole  village — emerged  from  the  concealing  smoke 
and  moved  away  across  the  bare  plateau  which  had 
been  the  pony  pasture. 

An  enormous,  regular  mass  they  made ;  no  wonder 
that  the  Seventh  Cavalry  battalions  had  not  whipped 
all  this  people. 

"  They're  as  large  as  a  brigade  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  and  in  as  fine  order,"  pronounced  Major 
Reno,  watching  from  amidst  his  officers. 

However,  the  Indians  might  be  planning  a  trap. 
Eighteen  dead  and  fifty-two  wounded  was  the  report 
of  Doctor  Porter,  the  surgeon  on  the  bluff.  Major 
Reno  did  not  dare  to  venture  far,  but  he  moved  the 
companies  nearer  to  the  river,  for  the  water.  Thus 
night  descended  upon  Monday,  June  26,  1876,  by 
the  Little  Big  Horn. 

Tuesday  the  third  day  dawned  clear  and  peaceful. 
Before,  the  only  moving  objects  were  a  few  Indian 
ponies  grazing  in  the  bottoms;  not  an  Indian  lodge- 

303 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

fire  was  to  be  sighted.  Now  where  was  Custer? 
Where  was  Crook?  When  could  Terry  and  Gibbon 
be  expected? 

After  breakfast  the  men  might  sit  about,  wary 
but  at  ease,  except  the  wounded.  The  sun  floated 
higher,  and  the  sage  shimmered  with  heat.  Scarcely 
a  sound  broke  the  aftermath  of  battle  noise,  save  as 
magpies  croaked  hoarsely.  Upon  a  knoll  were  sitting 
also  Major  Reno  and  Acting  Adjutant  Hare  and  Cap 
tain  Benteen,  and  other  officers — Ned  and  his  fellow 
orderlies  close  at  hand. 

The  talk  was  much  upon  Custer,  and  why  he  did 
not  send  word.  Some  of  the  officers  were  impatient 
with  him.  But  suddenly  talk  ceased.  Major  Reno 
was  peering  intently  through  his  glass,  at  the  north 
ward.  What  was  that?  From  the  lounging  men  up 
rose  again  a  murmur.  They  were  springing  to  their 
feet — as  sprang  to  their  feet  Major  Reno  and  all. 

"  Sound  the  assembly,  trumpeter !  To  your 
posts,  gentlemen ! "  ordered  the  major. 

Against  the  mountain-tops  far  down  the  course 
of  the  crooked,  half-hidden  river  was  another  spume 
of  dust  like  a  brownish  cloud.  To  the  hurrying  notes 
of  the  "  Assembly "  by  bugle  after  bugle  the  men 
hastened  from  the  river  below,  seized  carbines  and 
crouched  again  in  line.  The  Indians  were  coming 
back! 

No!    The  dust  did  not  approach  fast  enough  for 

304 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

Indian  riders.  It  was  more  like  the  dust  of  a  cavalry 
or  an  infantry  march.  And  yet — if  Indians  it  was, 
could  the  bluff  hold  out  against  them,  another  day? 

Ned  felt  his  heart  sink  with  dread.  Evidently 
Major  Reno  was  doubtful.  He  pondered,  a  moment; 
and  wrote  rapidly  an  order. 

"  I  want  three  men  to  carry  this  message  through," 
he  said,  to  Acting  Adjutant  Hare.  "  They're  to  go 
as  close  as  possible  to  that  approaching  column,  and 
see  what  it  is.  If  it's  Indians,  they're  to  pass  on  and 
take  this  word  through  to  Terry  at  the  Big  Horn,  so 
that  he'll  hurry.  If  it's  a  white  column,  they  are  to 
turn  back  at  once  and  let  us  know.  You  can  ask  for 
volunteers  from  the  ranks.  Our  Indians  are  no  good. 
I  can't  depend  on  them." 

Following  the  line  of  bluffs  had  ridden  away  the 
three  brave  couriers.  The  two  battalions  must  wait. 

"That  may  be  Terry,  don't  you  think,  major?" 
queried  Adjutant  Hare. 

"  No.  If  cavalry,  they  must  be  Custer.  Terry 
would  hardly  have  had  time  to  get  in  this  far." 

"  Look  for  the  gray  horse  troop,  then,"  suggested 
Captain  Benteen.  "Troop  E;  Smith's.  That  will 
tell  the  story." 

An  hour  passed ;  and  hurrah,  here  came  the  three 
couriers,  hastening  along  the  ridge!  With  them  was 
a  fourth  rider.  The  dust  also  was  nearing;  soon  the 
men  under  it  would  be  in  sight. 

20  305 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

The  squad  of  four  arrived  panting  with  their  haste. 
The  extra  man  was  a  scout,  by  his  rig.  He  was 
weary  and  travel-worn. 

'  "Pis  an  army  column;  cavalry  and  infantry  both, 
sir,"  reported  the  corporal  of  the  three  couriers;  and 
the  strange  scout  handed  to  Major  Reno  a  soiled  note. 

The  major  read  it — read  it  twice,  and  passed  it  to 
the  next  officer . 

"  What  do  you  make  of  it,  gentlemen?  "  he  asked, 
anxiously.  "  You  say  that's  Terry  yonder  ? "  he 
queried  of  the  scout : 

The  scout  nodded,  and  out  of  drawn  face  answered. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  Custer  isn't  with  him?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"This  note  is  addressed  to  General  Custer,"  said 
Lieutenant  Hare ;  "  from  General  Terry."  And  he 
read  it  aloud :  "  General :  A  Crow  scout  has  just  come 
into  camp,  saying  you've  been  whipped.  I  don't  be 
lieve  it,  but  I'm  coming  with  medical  aid." 

"  Tried  to  get  into  your  lines  last  night,"  informed 
the  white  scout,  "  but  the  blamed  Sioux  were  so  thick 
they  held  me  back.  I  s'posed  you  were  Custer.  Where 
is  Custer,  might  I  ask?" 

Whitening  face  turned  to  whitening  face.  Ned 
knew  himself  grown  pale  and  shaky  with  a  great  fear. 

"  If  Custer  didn't  meet  Terry " 

"  And  hasn't  communicated  with  us " 

"Or  with  him " 

306 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

"  We  must  hope  for  the  best,  gentlemen,"  faltered 
Captain  Benteen. 

Sped  like  lightning  through  the  rifle-pits  the  rumor 
that  the  Custer  battalion  had  met  a  great  disaster. 
Little  exclamations  of  wonder  and  pity  were  succeeded 
by  an  expectant  silence. 

But  here  along  the  valley,  right  where  had  stood 
the  proud  Sioux  village,  appeared  the  head  of  the 
column;  appeared  cavalry  and  infantry,  under  guidon 
and  banner.  Hooray  for  Terry  and  Gibbon !  Hooray 
for  comrades  in  blue !  Hats  were  swung,  grimy  hand 
gripped  grimy  hand. 

On  came  the  column,  to  the  cheering  lines.  General 
Terry,  leading,  was  grave.  Evidently  he  bore  very 
bad  news.  Sober  were  all  the  officers  with  him,  sober 
were  the  men;  and  sober  grew  the  awed  camp. 

"  Custer!    What  about  Custer?  " 

Heads  were  shaken. 

"  Don't  know  yet,  for  sure.  But  some  command 
has  been  killed  off,  every  man,  apparently,  yonder  on 
those  hills.  We  passed  about  two  hundred  stripped 
bodies." 

Ned  glimpsed  a  familiar  face.  It  was  that  of 
Curly,  the  Crow  scout.  He  rushed  to  Curly. 

"  Where's  the  general,  Curly?  Where's  the  Long 
Hair?" 

Curly  shook  his  head,  as  other  heads  were  being 
shaken. 

"Long  Hair  dead,"  he  said,   gutturally.     "All 

307 


ON  THE  PLAINS  WITH  CUSTER 

dead.  Me  only  one  left.  Let  hair  down  like  Sioux, 
put  on  Sioux  paint,  an'  ride  out.  Nearly  all  killed, 
then." 

So  Curly  had  been  with  Custer  in  the  fight. 

Acting  Adjutant  Hare's  voice  was  choked,  he 
scarcely  could  speak,  when  in  due  time  seeking  out 
Captain  Benteen  he  said: 

"  The  major  has  the  permission  of  General  Terry 
to  send  out  a  company  to  inspect  the  battle-field  where 
the  bodies  were  seen.  He  therefore  directs  that  you 
take  your  company,  and  return  as  soon  as  practicable 
with  a  report." 

Soberly  Captain  Benteen  acknowledged  the  salute; 
and  soberly  rode  away  with  him  his  men  of  Company 
H,  including  Ned,  cavalry  trumpeter. 

Yes,  there  they  lay,  on  slope  and  ridge,  two  miles 
from  Reno  Hill.  There  they  lay:  212  by  count,  the 
fighting  men  of  the  great  white  chief  Long  Hair, 
overwhelmed  by  the  2000  fighting  men  of  the  great 
red  chiefs  Gall  and  Crazy  Horse,  and  the  medicine  of 
Sitting  Bull. 

Company  by  company,  in  retreat  from  position  to 
position,  they  could  be  recognized  not  by  guidon  but 
by  officers  and  men.  Here  was  fair  Calhoun  and  his 
line;  here  was  dark  Captain  Keogh  and  his;  here  were 
the  Yates  men  and  the  Smith  men  and  Tom  Custer's, 
backed  by  their  officers.  Here  was  "  Queen's  Own  " 
Cook;  and  "Bos"  and  little  "Autie";  and  in  the 
circle  of  the  t**ave  was  the  general. 

308 


SITTING  BULL  AT  BAY 

Scalps  had  been  taken,  hatchet  and  club  had  been 
at  work ;  but  General  Custer  lay  calm  and  at  ease,  with 
two  wounds  only,  and  looking  much  as  Ned  had  seen 
him  look  a  thousand  times  before.  Even  the  knife  of 
Rain-in-the-Face  had  passed  him  by.  Said  the  Sioux : 
"  Of  all  the  brave  men  we  ever  fought,  the  Long  Hair 
was  the  bravest." 


Two  hundred  and  sixty-five  killed,  fifty-two 
wounded,  was  the  roll-call  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry, 
after  this  battle  of  the  Little  Big  Horn,  June  25  and 
26,  1876.  The  Sioux  fled,  Crazy  Horse  to  the  east, 
Sitting  Bull  to  the  west.  Pursuit  was  long.  Band 
after  band  must  yield  to  cavalry  and  to  infantry. 
American  Horse  was  killed;  Iron  Dog  surrendered; 
Dull  Knife  the  Cheyenne  was  defeated;  Lame  Deer 
was  killed;  Two  Moons  and  Hump  surrendered; 
Crazy  Horse  was  defeated,  and  must  surrender;  Sit 
ting  Bull  was  twice  defeated,  and  through  snow  and 
cold  must  lead  into  Canada  the  few  of  his  people  left. 
Five  years  after  the  great  battle  by  the  Greasy  Grass 
he,  too,  surrendered.  The  United  States  had  bought 
the  Black  Hills.  But  the  Chief  with  the  Long  Yellow 
Hair  and  nigh  three  hundred  of  his  Seventh  Cavalry 
rode  never  again. 


CENTRAL  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
University  of  California,  San  Diego 

DATE  DUE 


JUL  22  1981 

AUG  11198*3^ 

AUG  2  3  193/ 

FEB  1  0  1984 

FLu  17  k^ 

Cl  39 

UCSD  Libr. 

A     000818257 


